


Mortal Pleasures

by Felixbug



Series: Breaking the Silence [14]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Biting, Bondage, Corsetry, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, Facials, Food, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Lingerie, Lyrium, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sex Magic, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felixbug/pseuds/Felixbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’d like to continue your – education. Essential things to try in a living, breathing, mortal body. Hedonism for beginners.”</i>
</p><p><i>“I do not think</i> hedonism<i> is essential.”</i></p><p>Hawke encourages Justice to experiment with pleasure. Established Hawke/Anders/Justice relationship, reading the rest of the series isn't essential!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god, the original version of the author's note warned for "largely vanilla sex". Hawke and Justice can't be trusted to follow notes apparently :P pay attention to the tags, this starts off fluffy but gets very dirty very fast! 
> 
> See Also: [Art by lacorgimama](http://felixbug.tumblr.com/post/124000017604/lacorgimama-a-begging-hawke-because-the-last) (nsfw)

The clinic was empty when Hawke arrived – that wasn’t a huge surprise, it was still early in the day, but it was a relief. Hawke never minded being pulled in to help, but it was hard to just relax and talk to Anders when he was swamped by patients, and even harder to even get a glimpse of Justice.

They were seated at their desk in the back room, faint blue glow flickering under their skin as they wrote. There were ink stains on their fingers, crumpled pages strewn around their feet, and Hawke cringed at their hunched back – Justice might not notice the discomfort, but Anders would feel it later.

“Keeping busy?”

Hawke smirked – he couldn’t help it, there was something endearing about seeing Anders jump while Justice tried to swing around menacingly. They were getting better and better and sharing their skin, but it wasn’t their natural state and it showed.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said as Justice’s glow faded and Anders stood up, laughing weakly. “I thought you’d have heard me come in.”

“You’re quiet without your armour.” Anders wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed him – it started off chaste, but neither of them were quite able to leave it that way. Anders’ soft _mmph_ against his lips made Hawke growl in response and suck teasingly on his lower lip as they separated. “Please,” Anders continued, a little breathless. “Tell me you didn’t walk through Darktown alone like that?”

“Are you worried about me?” Hawke grinned, and stretched up to kiss the frown that formed on Anders’ brow. He was dressed simply, in a loose-fitting shirt and trousers with soft leather boots. “I came down through the tunnel, I only had to brave Darktown for ten paces. I thought I’d keep you company for a while, unless you’re busy?”

“A little,” Anders admitted. “We’ve got some good ideas – struggling a bit with getting them into words, but I don’t want to lose where I was going with it entirely.” Hawke pouted and Anders laughed. “ _Andraste’s ass_ , Justice was right – you are a distraction.”

“To both of you?”

“Definitely.” There was a deep rumble below Anders’ voice, and a brief film of blue skimmed over his eyes. “Maybe we could use a short break.”

“I love seeing you two together,” Hawke said as they sat down together on the edge of the bed. “When I came in and you were working – it’s nice. Is it getting easier?”

“A little.” Anders tucked one foot under himself as he twisted to face Hawke, running his fingers through his hair. There were ink stains in the tips of his hair and on the side of his right hand, and Hawke noticed a faint dark smudge on the tip of his nose. “I still keep control almost all the time – I mean, Justice can’t risk being seen – and he prefers to let me deal with most of our needs. Food, bathing, that sort of thing.”

“So, what does he do for fun? Aside from me.”

Anders snorted with laughter, and nudged Hawke with his knee.

“Spirit of Justice, love, not spirit of fun. He likes working on the manifesto, would love to go out and start a fight with some Templars if I’d let him – simple pleasures. Mage freedom and good company. He doesn’t need much else.”

“It’s not all about needs though.” Hawke couldn’t resist that endearing smudge anymore, and leaned in to kiss the tip of Anders’ nose. Anders laughed, and raised his chin to capture Hawke’s mouth with his own. Hawke nipped at Anders’ lower lip, the way he knew Anders liked but Justice _loved,_ and felt a bitter, metallic-tasting hum against his lips in response. “What about _wants_?”

“You mean desires?” The transition was near seamless, signalled by the sudden faint hum in the air around them, the way the hairs on the back of Hawke’s neck prickled, and the sudden flare of light from Justice’s skin. “I am cautious of those.”

“Really?” Hawke chuckled as he pulled back, reaching out to give Justice’s thigh a playful squeeze. “Because I seem to remember coming home last night to find you drunk on lyrium and too well-fucked to move.”

“You cannot become drunk on lyrium,” Justice said flatly. “It is addictive to mortals, and consuming it is – pleasurable. Extremely. But it does not impair judgement or ability.”

“And,” Hawke said with a teasing smirk. “I remember waking up in the night _in the dark_ for the first time in weeks. But, I’m sure whatever you and Anders got up to in the Fade didn’t involve _desire_.”

Anders had told him a little when he woke – he’d overslept, and had to rush to open the clinic, and the truth was Hawke was dying to talk to them both about it. Had they found a reliable way to both reach the Fade? How did they feel, being able to see each other face to face again? And, although Hawke wasn’t going to _ask,_ he was itching with curiosity about what had happened. Anders and Justice were about as two intimate as two beings could be – being able to see each other again, to _touch_ each other again – that must have been exciting.

“I am in love with Anders.” Justice paused for a moment, and reached out to softly touch Hawke’s lips. He was often distracted in this way, exploring Hawke’s body and face with his fingertips, as if making a map of his skin. Hawke loved it, and smiled against his fingers until Justice remembered he had been speaking. “And with you. It is not unjust to give pleasure to the people that I love, and to receive it in return. This is one of the rights Anders wishes for all mages – for all beings.”

“No argument here.” Hawke followed Justice’s withdrawing fingers and kissed the palm of his hand with a grin. “But if love and sex are healthy and natural and _just,_ surely other mortal pleasures can’t be too dangerous?”

“I am beginning to think it unlikely such things would corrupt me,” Justice agreed. “Being diverted from my cause is a more serious threat – I am… easily overwhelmed. As it is, I have spent this morning writing with Anders, and my concentration has been lessened. Last night was something I have longed for ever since the first time he and I walked together in the Fade – I had begun to think it was impossible for us to return, and now that I know it is _not,_ it consumes my thoughts.”

“Has it stopped you writing?” Hawke glanced over at the scattered pages on the desk. “Distractions are part of life – honestly, you’ve got a human brain now. Those things don’t focus well, trust me.”

“I have noticed,” Justice said drily.

“The last thing I’d ever want to do is – fuck, I’m in love with someone who can literally turn into a demon if I mess things up badly enough, that’s a lot of pressure.” Hawke laughed – it didn’t feel quite appropriate, but this wasn’t something he could think too seriously about without panic. He wasn’t even sure what would happen if Justice was corrupted – if Anders would survive it, if anything recognisably Justice would still be there. “You decide what you’re comfortable with, you make all the rules. But if you think it’s safe, and you trust me, I’d like to help you… I don’t know, settle in.”

“Settle in?” Justice tilted his head.

“Into your body. You were walking around in a dead man before this, that can’t have been much fun. And I still remember how you were our first night together.” Hawke’s voice roughened a little at the memory, and he couldn’t resist sliding his fingers up Justice’s thigh, enjoying the way the spirit’s breath caught. “I’ve never been with anyone so responsive. It was like you’d never been touched before.”

“I had not – at least, not in the ways you touched me.”

“I’d like to continue your – education. Essential things to try in a living, breathing, mortal body. Hedonism for beginners.”

“I do not think _hedonism_ is essential.”

“Okay, maybe not. But – when was our next evening for just the two of us going to be, two days time? How about we spend some of it outside the bedroom – you take over from Anders a little early and we can have a meal together for a start and we’ll – well, we can go from there.” Hawke met Justice’s eye and smirked playfully. Already his mind was filling with ideas.

“I am curious,” Justice said cautiously. “I see no harm in it – sensations in this body are overwhelming, I cannot promise I will enjoy everything you offer.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Hawke said. “I should get going then – I’ve got to plan the housewarming party of a lifetime. About four years too late, but…”

“Please do not call it that.” Justice’s brow furrowed in the way Hawke absolutely adored – showing slight confusion and fond disapproval. “Anders is not a house. What we share is sacred.”

“Sorry.” Hawke grinned and kissed the crinkles across the bridge of his nose, down over the ink-stain on the tip, and down again to feel the soft hum of Justice’s lips against his once more. It had been meant affectionately, but Justice seemed to want more, his hand snatching at Hawke’s hip as he began to shift away. Hawke was locked in place as Justice gently pushed him back onto the bed, his lean, lithe body moving to straddle Hawke’s hips as he deepened the kiss and threaded his fingers into Hawke’s hair.

“Your apology is accepted,” Justice said as he pulled back. “Anders believes you came here to ask questions about last night. Is this true?”

“I came here to see the men I love.” Hawke leaned up and kissed Justice’s chin, then the corner of his mouth. He flopped back down against the bed with a sideways grin. “Does there have to be an ulterior motive?”

“If you are not curious, then I shall not tell you.” _Playful_ wasn’t a word Hawke could imagine many people would use to describe Justice, but he had certainly developed a taste for teasing. Hawke bit his lip.

“I didn’t say _that_.”

“Then ask your questions.”

“How’d you do it?”

“We are not entirely certain. Now that we have managed it twice, we can make guesses – sex was involved both times, but it is unlikely that is the cause. Most likely it is the feeling of peace – of comfort – that follows. There will be other ways to achieve that but – I do not see any reason to change a method that has been successful.”

“Mm, I bet you don’t.” Hawke rolled his hips beneath Justice’s, earning him a low growl in response.

“Both Anders and I consumed lyrium each time – that part is most likely essential. We have one body, but we are not one being – and lyrium is not a purely physical substance. Our failed attempts did not always take this into account – and we were distressed, lonely – we were not in harmony.” Justice trailed his fingertips along Hawke’s jaw with a pleased hum. “I think it is likely that we will be able to return – often, if perhaps not reliably.”

“So,” Hawke said, noticing the way Justice’s breath had quickened, and the soft touches of his fingertips were growing more urgent. “I suppose now you know you can get back, it’s lost its novelty? I’m sure, after the evening you’d had, you didn’t feel like anything strenuous. Probably had a nice long chat about mage freedom…”

“No,” Justice growled, and he crushed his lips to Hawke’s. He kissed him hard, urging his mouth open and teasing his lips with his own until Hawke gave in and nipped at him, leaving them both breathing heavily as they broke apart. “First, I kissed him,” Justice said. “And for a while, we spoke very little. Not about freedom. Not about anything. The only word I heard from him was my name as I bent him over the edge of the table and…”

Justice froze, turning his head towards the doorway. Hawke listened, and he heard it too – a feeble voice calling Anders’ name.

“We have a patient,” Justice said, rising off Hawke with a sigh.

“Don’t let me distract you.” Hawke sat up. He was half-hard already, and would have liked nothing better than to pull Justice down again. But duty came first – for Justice, and for Anders too. Justice locked eyes with Hawke for a moment, and then he was gone, the bright light fading as Anders eased back into his skin.

“Just a moment!” he called, with an apologetic smile at Hawke.

“Go on,” Hawke grinned, running his fingers through his hair and willing his cock to forget the tantalising pressure of Justice’s ass against it. “Save the world. I’ll see you both tonight.”

“I might be home late,” Anders warned. He tied up his hair, and Hawke licked his thumb to rub the smudge of ink off his nose.

“That’s all right,” Hawke said softly, enjoying Anders’ faint gasp. “I can wait.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hawke watched Justice eat, gnawing his lip nervously. On Anders’ advice he’d kept things simple – Orana had laid out a selection of bread, cheeses and sliced meats, as well as a huge basket of fruit. Hawke had dug in happily, making himself an overflowing sandwich which Justice looked at warily before picking at a single plain white roll.

By the time Hawke had eaten his fill, Justice had made little progress. They’d spoken during the meal, and Justice had enjoyed that at least. He’d made observations about Anders’ more difficult patients, and pressed Hawke for details of his uneasy dealings with the Templars, and with the Starkhaven Prince he’d once again been dragged into working for.

“He pays. We’re not close – he’s not _quite_ as terrible as I expected from my first impression, but he’s not far off.” Hawke said. He stood and paced around the table to perch on the edge, watching Justice prod suspiciously at a slice of ham. “That’s nicer with the bread, love.”

“The textures are difficult,” Justice said. He looked up at Hawke, his face sombre. “I am disappointing you.”

“No – oh, love, no,” Hawke said quickly. He nudged the chair next to Justice out with his foot and slid into it. The dining room was far too big for the three of them – especially with two of them sharing a body. The table could easily have seated twenty. “Don’t eat it if you’re not enjoying it – I’m just encouraging you to be adventurous.”

“The bread is pleasant.”

“You’ve been picking at it like you expect it to fight back.”

Justice twisted his lips awkwardly, and reached for another roll.

“I like the texture. The taste is – confusing. It is distinctive, but not strong. I am not sure how I feel about it. But it crumbles – see?” Justice broke the roll, and a shower of crumbs scattered from it – most onto the table, not his plate. Hawke smiled fondly.

“It does.”

“And the outside is like a shell, while the inside is soft – it’s fascinating.” Justice turned to him with a frown. “You do not notice these things. You are aware of them but you do not see. Here.” He pressed half of the roll into Hawke’s palm.

Hawke took it, and dutifully looked. It just looked like bread to him, and it was his turn to feel guilty.

“I don’t think we see things quite the same way,” he said gently, returning the bread to Justice’s plate. “Must be those big, bright eyes of yours. But I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“I am.” Justice set down the crumbling roll, and reached out to touch Hawke’s face. “I am with you. Anders believes my conversation has not been – what would be expected, for a romantic night.”

“I’m not sure anything about our relationship is what people would expect.” Hawke laughed, and slipped his fingers into Justice’s hair. He pulled him to the side and kissed his temple, grinning against the warm, glowing skin. “That’s how I like it. You’re intense – you always have been. It’s – actually one of the first things I noticed about you. That I liked _– Maker_ , loved, to be honest. Well before I was ready to admit it.”

While he spoke, Hawke reached out and plucked a grape from the basket on the table. He’d noticed Justice had been extremely wary of the fruit, and had cautiously picked any burned or discoloured parts out of the bread he’d eaten. Hawke peeled the grape with his fingernails, smirking as he noticed Justice’s rapt attention on his hands. He might be uncertain about food, but he loved Hawke’s fingers.

“When did you first think of me that way?” Justice asked.

“Seriously?” Hawke shrugged. “Little while after Anders moved in – once I was making the effort to communicate with you. I mean, it was through him, but I still felt like we worked well together, you know? But I’d had – I don’t know, idle thoughts for a while before that.” Hawke laughed, looking away from Justice’s intense gaze. “I’d sometimes be thinking about Anders – you know, what I’d like to do if he ever stopped pushing me away.”

“Sexual fantasies. Anders had those too.”

“Mm, you’ll have to tell me details some time.” Hawke winked. “Anyway sometimes you’d sort of – sneak in. Here.” He held out the grape, and Justice looked at it sceptically. “It’s sweet. Like – well, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried anything sweet. There’s a couple of seeds in the middle, they won’t harm you but you probably want to spit them out.”

“That sounds unpleasant.”

“Justice, I don’t want to be crude, but you’ve never been especially fussy about what ends up in your mouth.”

“You are referring to oral sex.” Justice narrowed his eyes. “That is different.”

“I’ve been with men who pulled that exact face,” Hawke gestured at Justice’s frown, “if I even _suggested_ I come in their mouth. Here…” he grabbed a knife from the cheese board and split the grape down the middle, flicking out the seeds out with the tip.

“It is different because I desire you. I love you.” Justice watched Hawke dissect the grape, but his frown had softened slightly. “I doubt I would enjoy it in different circumstances.”

“Well, how about these _circumstances_.” Hawke held his fingers to Justice’s lips, the split grape pinched between them. Juices flowed over his skin, and Hawke didn’t miss the way Justice’s tongue swept over his lips as his eyes followed the reddish-purple trickles.

Justice parted his lips – hesitated for a moment – and leaned forward to take Hawke’s fingertips into his mouth. His teeth rasped gently over the skin as he snagged the grape, then pulled away. He chewed and swallowed, and hummed happily.

“Sweet is better,” he said. “Much better.” He leaned in again an took Hawke’s fingers into his mouth, his tongue hot and eager against his skin as he lapped up the trails of juice.

“I love you too,” Hawke said, a little breathless as Justice groaned around his fingers. “Felt like I should – say that now. Before I get too distracted.”

“No distractions,” Justice growled, nipping the pads of Hawke’s fingers as he withdrew. “You wished to show me how mortals live – the things you enjoy. What is next?”

“Well, if you’ve got a sweet tooth…” Hawke grinned and stood up. “I have a few things I was holding back – I thought I should at least try to get some real food into you, this isn’t the sort of thing you can live on but–“ He strode to the end of the table and picked up the large covered platter that had been left there. Justice watched curiously as he returned, and set it down beside him.

“Open it,” Hawke said.

Justice lifted off the cover, and stared down at the wide platter. A selection of small, decorative cakes were spread out across most of it, with a round carved box at the far end. The lid had already been removed, and it was filled with chocolates – rich, dark chocolate spheres dusted lightly with sugar. There was a bowl of thick whipped cream in the centre, and Hawke couldn’t resist reaching around Justice to dip his finger into it and pop it into his mouth.

Justice reached curiously for the chocolates, and Hawke reached out and stilled his hand.

“Start with the cakes,” he said.

“They are complicated.” Justice picked one up – a small cylinder of sponge, half dipped in chocolate, with slivers of candied rose petals scattered over it. “This will be overwhelming. Those look simple.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” Hawke took the fussy cake from Justice’s hand, and tugged one of the sugar-encrusted petal pieces loose. “Trust me – cake first, chocolate later.”

“You have served me dishonest chocolates?” Justice tilted his head, but he allowed Hawke to feed him the rose petal, licking the sugar from his fingertips with a soft grunt.

“Surprising chocolates,” Hawke corrected him. “ _Exciting_ chocolates.” He broke off a piece of the sponge, dipped it in the cream, and offered it to Justice balanced on a fingertip.

Justice took it, and his eyes widened. He groaned, sucking on Hawke’s finger hard as his tongue swirled around the tip. He swallowed, and lunged forward to kiss Hawke urgently, his hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

Hawke chuckled against the hot press of his lips, shifting back from the table as he received a lap full of squirming spirit. Justice straddled his lap, running his hands down over Hawke’s cheeks and combing his fingers through his beard with a growl before letting them fall to his shoulders to cling tightly.

“You missed me?” Hawke murmured as they broke apart. Justice lay in his arms every night while Anders slept, but the days were sometimes hard, and he had spent the previous evening with Anders alone.

“A little,” Justice admitted. He leaned back to pull the platter closer, and picked up a pale golden sponge mounded with buttercream. “But it was bearable until you were seated across the table, and I was unable to touch you.”

“There _are_ things to do together besides touch,” Hawke said. He grinned, running his hands up Justice’s thighs. “Not that I object to multi-tasking.”

Justice dug his fingers into the cake, scooping off a large curl of buttercream on his fingertip. He shifted on Hawke’s lap, and Hawke groaned at the slight friction – _no distractions_ indeed. Justice brought his finger to Hawke’s lips, and Hawke smirked, his mouth remaining firmly closed.

“Is that how you’re going to get out of trying anything new?” he asked, dodging with a chuckle as Justice’s finger tried to slide between his lips. “Feed it all to me?”

“Infuriating mortal,” Justice rumbled – his face remained expressionless, but Hawke could recognise amusement in his eyes. “Taste.”

Hawke wrapped his lips around Justice’s finger – it was fun to tease but this was even better. The buttercream was rich and sweet as it melted on his tongue, and Hawke lapped and sucked at Justice’s skin until it was all gone. He slid his lips back and forth along his finger, letting his teeth rasp gently over the knuckles, and Justice growled and shifted against him again.

“I have a confession to make,” Hawke murmured as Justice’s finger slid free. “I lost my nerve a bit.”

“About?” Justice ran his thumb over Hawke’s lower lip, groaning softly as Hawke pressed a soft kiss to the pad.

“Pleasure without sex.” Hawke drew Justice’s thumb between his lips, nipped gently at the tip, and released it. “I realised you might not like _anything_ I thought of. So,” he squeezed Justice’s thighs and encouraged him to rock against him – undeniably hard now, pressed against Justice’s ass. “I thought we’d make things a little more exciting.”

Hawke leaned forward, one arm around Justice’s waist to hold him in place as he dragged the platter closer. Justice’s hand dug into his shoulder, and for a moment Hawke almost pulled them both off balance. He recovered well, and when he leaned back in his seat there was a small dark chocolate captured in his fingers.

“The chocolates?” Justice tilted his head.

“My first year in Kirkwall, I sometimes ah – _handled_ some interesting things.”

“You were a criminal,” Justice said. “I prefer not to speak of it.”

“Mm, so judgemental.” Hawke sighed dramatically, rolling the chocolate between his fingers. He noticed Justice eyeing it curiously – eagerly, perhaps – and grinned. “We’ve talked about this, love – I was protecting my family. That’s _just_ , right?”

“It is complicated – it makes me uncomfortable.”

“You know half of what I do now is illegal?” Hawke rocked his hips again, and Justice gasped. “Including, I’m pretty sure, _this._ ”

“You follow your own morality – nothing you do strikes me as unjust.”

“Well, you’re the expert.” Hawke popped the chocolate into his mouth, laughing around the rich, melty mouthful as Justice made a needy sound. He licked his lips, catching tiny crumbs of melting chocolate, and Justice’s eyes followed the movement hungrily. “So, we used to bring these in – the ingredients for them, anyway – to the Rose.”

“The brothel?”

“Well, not for someone’s flowerbeds, love. They served these at their parties.” Hawke picked up another chocolate, toying with it in front of his lips. “They made the customers – well, a little more eager to part with their coin. _Painfully_ eager.”

“These are not honest business practises.”

“You should go and have a word with the Madame.” Hawke grinned and rolled the chocolate against his lips – relishing Justice’s sharp gasp. “I asked around, I still know the right people to get hold of – honestly, more or less anything.”

“They do not alter the mind?” Justice reached for the chocolate, and Hawke dropped it into his mouth and smirked as Justice’s fingers brushed his lips and he whined in frustration. “Only increase arousal?”

“You say _only_ like that isn’t powerful.” Hawke slid his hand up inside Justice’s shirt, scuffing his nails over his waist and hips until Justice groaned. “You’re not exactly shy in the bedroom, love - maybe I shouldn’t let you have these, I think you might break me.”

“You are teasing.” Justice frowned. “Is frustration one of the pleasures you wished to show me?”

“Mm, fair point.” Hawke picked up another of the chocolates. “You ready for this?”

“How many do I take?”

“One isn’t all that noticeable.” Hawke toyed with the chocolate, watching the sugar smear across his fingers. “It’ll make you a little warm, and every touch will make your skin tingle. Two is where things get _fun,_ you’ll be so hard you can’t think of anything else, and even my _breath_ on your skin will leave you shaking.” Hawke grinned – Justice seemed to be headed for that point already, eyes fixed on Hawke’s fingers as the chocolate began to melt against his skin. “Three – I’ve taken three before. Did it for a bet when I had to watch some cargo for six hours on the docks – if I left, I’d lose. I thought I was going to die - I made it half an hour before I ended up on my knees behind the crates with my hand shoved down my trousers – I think I came eight times, and was nearly crying by the time I was done.” He laughed, and popped the chocolate into his mouth. “Won the bet, though. That wasn’t against the rules.”

“That sounds overwhelming,” Justice said, leaning closer. “Intense. Frightening.”

“You don’t have to do it,” Hawke murmured – he couldn’t feel anything yet, but the anticipation was enough to make his cock twitch eagerly against Justice's ass. “But in about an hour, I’m going to be a _lot_ of fun.”

Justice ducked his head and pressed his lips firmly against Hawke’s. His groan was muffled as their mouths moved together, hot and wet and eager, and his tongue ran over Hawke’s lips tracing trails of melted chocolate.

“It tastes,” another low growl, another sweep of tongue, “incredible. And so do you.”

Hawke slid his hand up Justice’s chest inside his shirt, toying with one firm nipple with his fingertips as he let his other and drop between their bodies to cup Justice’s hardness. Justice panted and thrust, hips working urgently between Hawke’s hand and his rigid cock. The kiss was messy and desperate, Hawke’s lips rasping on stubble one moment, drawn between teeth the next, they crushed their mouths together and Hawke wasn’t sure which groans were his and which were Justice’s anymore.

He slid his hand from Justice’s chest to his ass, gripping tightly as he stood and leaned forward onto the table. They swept food aside – the bread basket fell to the ground, rolls scattering in all directions, and Justice narrowly avoided going straight back onto the cheese board. Justice ended up splayed on his back on the twisted tablecloth, his hips on the edge of the table and his thighs locked tight around Hawke’s waist. Hawke picked up one of the chocolates, and quirked his eyebrow.

“What d’you say?”

“I want it,” Justice growled, and dug his heels into the backs of Hawke’s thighs. “I want three.”

***

Justice pushed himself further onto the table and Hawke followed, shoving dishes aside and laughing, his loose mop of hair falling in his eyes as he braced over him. Justice looked up at him – his soft, full lips, still slightly stained with melted chocolate, the warm depths of his eyes, and the hint of chest hair visible at the open collar of his shirt. He was flushed – either the aphrodisiac was effecting him earlier than he’d expected, or he was just eager. Justice smiled up at him – it still took effort, but it was worth it for Hawke, and Hawke grinned back with a breathless groan as he reached up and held the chocolate to his own lips.

“What does four do?” Justice asked.

“I’d be a little scared to find out.” Hawke hesitated for a moment, then closed his lips around the chocolate.

Justice’s objections of _reckless_ and _foolish_ never made it to his lips – Hawke bent down and kissed him fiercely, the firm pressure of his lips encouraged Justice’s mouth open and – _oh,_ that was good. Warm, rich, sticky chocolate slid from Hawke’s tongue to his. It was half melted, and as Justice took it it coated the inside of his mouth. The sweet, intense flavour surrounded his tongue, it hung on his lips, and he swallowed with a moan as Hawke pulled back gasping.

“How’s that taste?”

Justice’s only reply was a shaken groan, his hands tightening on Hawke’s shoulders as his eyes fluttered closed. He hadn’t know anything could taste this good – except for lyrium, but this had almost the same intensity without the song. This was mortal magic, they did not need the Fade for this, and their creation had left him moaning, squirming against Hawke’s body.

“Another,” he gasped.

There was no teasing this time – Hawke held the firm surface of the chocolate to Justice’s lips, and he bit into it with a growl. The shell shattered, and Hawke’s fingers brushed the crumbs into his mouth as the thick, creamy filling dripped slowly onto his tongue. Justice surged up and closed his mouth around Hawke’s fingers, teeth digging into soft skin as he sucked and licked at the sticky sweetness. Hawke gasped, and his hips rocked against Justice’s as he licked his fingers clean.

“More,” he gasped. “ _More.”_

“In a minute.” Hawke rocked back onto his knees, looking down at Justice with a self-assured smile. Justice pushed himself up on his elbows as Hawke hooked his fingers into the hem of his shirt and tugged it off hastily over his head. A button went flying somewhere, but neither of them cared as Hawke’s body was exposed to Justice’s gaze.

Justice eyed him appreciatively, a low rumble rising in his chest. He loved him – loved every inch of his strong, stocky body. The impressive curves of muscle in his shoulders and biceps, the broad strength of his chest, the softness at his waist barely concealing the toned perfection of his abs. The hair was Justice’s favourite – Anders’ body was not hairless, but until he had seen Hawke he had not realised quite how hairy mortals could get. Coarse, black hair covered his pectorals, thickening down the centre of his chest until it thinned out over his belly. It thickened again below the navel, a dark, enticing trail that dipped out of sight below the waistband of his trousers. Justice licked his lips, and Hawke chuckled.

“See something you like?”

“You know I do.” Justice began to unbutton his own shirt, but Hawke effortlessly batted his hands away and did it for him. He was slow – he knew exactly what he was doing when he lowered himself to breathe against Justice’s neck, and when his fingertips grazed his bare skin. Justice growled, and Hawke slowed even further in response, making a show of fumbling with each button and groaning against Justice’s skin.

“Maker, these are fiddly.”

“You are aware that I can hear your deception?”

“Ssh, play along.” Hawke kissed the pulse-point in his neck, making Justice shiver. “No need to rush.”

Justice gripped a handful of his hair and pushed Hawke onto his back with a snarl. The sudden movement sent something flying off the table with a crash – Justice wasn’t sure what and didn’t care. The chocolates were still within reach. He twisted Hawke’s hair back with a groan and trailed hard, bruising kisses up his throat. He sucked hard at the soft, tanned skin, leaving Hawke moaning as he thrust roughly against him. Their stiff lengths met through layers of fabric, and they rutted together as Justice panted harshly and tore one-handed at his shirt. He lost more buttons than Hawke had – he thought it might have been all that were still fastened – but soon he was free of the offending fabric and let it fall away. He seized a chocolate with a triumphant growl.

He paused for a moment with it pressed against his lips. He raked his eyes over Hawke’s heaving chest and flushed cheeks – it was _his_ turn to tease. It was a habit he had learned from his mortals, and he was learning it could be very rewarding. He pressed the chocolate between Hawke’s collarbones, in the warm indent in his skin.

“What’re you – oh,” Hawke gasped. The chocolate had warmed quickly, and Justice ran it down the centre of Hawke’s chest with a growl. A smear of melted chocolate was left in its wake, and Justice bent down to lap at Hawke’s skin with a low groan. It tasted incredible – the sweet richness mixed with the underlying salt of Hawke’s skin. He sucked at his skin until Hawke groaned, then brought the soft, sticky chocolate to his lips once more.

He held it on his tongue, moaning faintly as it melted. The burst of flavour was intense, causing pleasure that left his fingers shaking as he unlaced Hawke’s trousers and eased his cock free. Hawke grunted and thrust up against his hand, hands clenching in the tablecloth as Justice eased back between his thick, splayed thighs.

He took Hawke’s cock into his mouth, letting the melted chocolate smear over his thick length. The mingling tastes were overwhelming – the sugary melt of the chocolate slicked his tongue as he lapped at the rigid flesh, and as he swirled his tongue around the tip he tasted the strong salty flavour of Hawke’s pre-come. Hawke responded eagerly to his touch, sliding his fingers into Justice’s hair and gently rolling his hips up to sink deeper into his mouth and, with one last push, to ease his cock into his throat.

Justice’s moan was muffled against the thick shaft, lips stretched tight and wet around the base as Hawke sank into him. He swallowed around his length, and felt the warm chocolate trickle down his throat as saliva dripped over his stubbled jaw. Hawke grunted with every roll of his hips, every twitch of Justice’s throat, and before long Justice could taste the steady leak of Hawke’s cock when the head dragged over his tongue.

“Fuck, Justice,” Hawke groaned, his hand tightening in Justice’s hair. “That’s – _yeah_.”

Justice groaned in response, as much for the way his lips and tongue hummed against Hawke’s stiff length as to reply. Hawke panted sharply, his body tensing as he hunched forward, and Justice opened his eyes to look up though his lashes as Hawke’s flushed face. He slid off his cock with a wet pop, and kept his bright blue gaze locked on Hawke as he slowly swept his tongue over the head.

“ _Please_ ,” Hawke groaned, tugging at the silky strands of his hair.

Justice pulled away, leaving Hawke to whine in frustration as his cock fell back against his stomach. The platter was still within reach, and the light, sweet taste of the cream had not left Justice’s memory. He lifted the bowl, and saw Hawke’s eyes widen.

“You wanted me to try new things?” Justice knelt up between Hawke’s thighs, his hips canted to the side as he swirled his finger in the cream. “Do not rush me. I am exploring.”

“Oh – yes,” Hawke groaned. He slid one hand down to slowly work his cock, and Justice decided not to stop him – tempting as it was to pin his hands above his head and pinch his nipples with electric sparking fingers until he begged. Seeing Hawke touch himself was even better, his thick bicep twitching with every stroke, his cock flushed and slick in his hand.

Justice pressed cream-coated fingers to Hawke’s lips, and Hawke eagerly lapped and sucked at them, moaning as Justice thrust into his mouth with a growl. He slid them languidly against Hawke’s tongue, groaning as Hawke traced patterns on the sensitive skin then looked Justice in the eye and sucked hard. Justice’s free hand slid up his thigh to palm his cock – he longed to kneel above Hawke’s face and sink into his hot, wet mouth, but not yet. Not until he was ready.

He painted swirls on Hawke’s skin with the cream – growling a warning to him when Hawke’s groans grew shaky and the swift jerks of his wrist became uneven. He would not come yet – not until Justice said so – and Hawke whined sharply at the command but he obeyed. The thick, white liquid clung beautifully to Hawke’s skin, and Justice swept it into stiff peaks over each of his nipples with an enraptured hum of pleasure. Hawke shivered as the chilled cream nipped at his flesh, and Justice rewarded him for his patience. He leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, swept the cream away, and sucked hard.

“Nngh,” Hawke grunted – and moments later he cried out sharply as Justice tugged gently at the firm nub with his teeth.

Justice followed every streak across Hawke’s flesh, sweetness bursting on his tongue as he explored the shifting textures of Hawke’s skin. It was thin near his nipples, thickening higher on his chest where sunlight had shone into his open collar and weathered the skin. The hair felt good against his tongue – in the back of his mind, he felt Anders’ surprise. He loved it under his fingers, but found the texture of it off-putting against his mouth and feared hairs between his teeth. There was a strange sense of mental push-and-pull when their tastes didn’t match, but they’d got used to it, and Anders settled back as Justice lapped, kissed and sucked his way across Hawke’s chest.

He left his other nipple until last, enjoying Hawke’s increasingly frustrated panting as he worked around it. Hawke’s strokes around his cock sped up again, and Justice let one hand slide down between their bodies to tease Hawke’s entrance as he trailed his lips over his chest. He stopped short of sliding his finger into him – it was far too good to knead and stroke and circle, leaving Hawke gasping and begging for more. He closed his mouth over his nipple – hesitated for a moment – then sucked away the cream with a groan.

Hawke gasped – he thrust up into his hand and grunted Justice’s name – and as Justice brought his tongue to the hardened peak he called on Anders’ magic. Creation magic was still difficult for him – but not impossible, not anymore. He coated his sparks in the cool, soothing hum of it, and directed them to fizz and tingle against Hawke’s tight entrance. Hawke’s rough shout broke into a wail as he concentrated harder, and let sparks dance down over his tongue against Hawke’s erect nipple.

“Sweet fucking Maker, Justice,” Hawke shouted, his head falling back against the table with a dull thunk. “That’s – oh fuck, oh _fuck_.”

Enough teasing – Justice doubted Hawke could have held back now if he tried. He slid down between his thighs again, keeping the steady stream of sparks against Hawke’s entrance as he took his cock into his mouth and sucked firmly. It only took a few short strokes – he bobbed his head, flicked his sparking tongue across the sensitive head, moaned wantonly around it – and Hawke came with a wordless cry, thrusting up into Justice’s eager mouth.

“How did you – when did you…” Hawke was lost for words as Justice prowled up over his body and draped himself over his chest. “Anders said…”

“We had a long night in the Fade.” Justice ran his fingertip over Hawke’s lips, feeling the sharp huffs of his breath. “We were intimate, and we talked – and Anders helped me to gain new knowledge.”

“Can you heal?”

“Not yet.” Justice shifted onto his knees, straddling Hawke’s chest. “But I am learning all the time – the two of you show me new ways to see your world. You teach me to live like this, bound to mortal flesh. When Anders and I joined I thought I would be condemned forever to the depths of his mind – I could only claw loose when I was the only strength he had left.” He ran his hand over Hawke’s cheek, rumbling softly as he felt the warmth of Hawke’s skin against his palm. “I will never forget the care you have both shown me – the experiences you have offered.”

“There’s more to come,” Hawke grinned, and Justice slid his hands into his hair.

“There is,” he growled. He loosened his trousers, and Hawke’s breath caught beneath him. “And I want it _all_.”


	3. Chapter 3

The tablecloth was twisted, cascading almost to the ground on one side and barely covering the oak table on the other. The fruit basket was on its side, and Hawke was pretty sure the wetness coating his back was crushed peaches – or oranges – something colourful and round had gone under his body and never emerged. At least one plate had shattered, sent flying by a flailing limb, and there was a long smear of buttercream down the side of Justice’s thigh. Hawke wasn’t sure where any of their clothes had ended up – they were both fully naked now – and he knew he didn’t care.

“Continue,” Justice growled, and Hawke wrapped his lips around his cock again.

Justice’s grip in his hair was relentless as he pushed him down again, glowing thighs trembling as he braced above Hawke’s face and drove into his mouth. He hadn’t rushed – after all that teasing, Hawke had expected Justice to be desperate to find his own release. Instead, he had savoured this – long, slow thrusts into Hawke’s throat that left both of them flushed and shaken, interrupted by breaks to kiss him fiercely and run his hands over Hawke’s body.

“I will not wait any longer,” Justice snarled. His grip tightened in Hawke’s hair as he rocked forward over him, hips snapping sharply as Hawke choked and whimpered around his length. “I – want to feel you – _swallow,_ ” he broke off with a rough groan, and his eyes fell closed. “This is – oh, Garrett – so good, so hot and wet I…”

Hawke felt the tremble in Justice’s thighs against his shoulders, tasted the smeared pre-come at the back of his tongue, and the first, sudden pulse of his stiff length in Hawke’s throat. Justice groaned, twisted his fingers in Hawke’s hair, and thrust deep into him with a snarl. Hawke’s cry was muffled by the throbbing thickness of him, he felt drool forced from between his lips and the press of Justice’s balls against his chin, and then Justice’s cock was pulsing against his tongue as he came directly down Hawke’s throat.

Justice slid out of him slowly, leaving Hawke to take rough, hoarse breaths and wipe the saliva from his chin with a shaking hand. He collapsed beside him, one glowing arm flung across Hawke’s chest as he lay amidst the spilled wine, crushed fruit and crumpled fabric.

“This was not what you planned,” he said.

“No.” Hawke groped around until he found the remains of the whipped cream, and scooped up a finger full. He swallowed it, and the cool sweetness eased the soreness in his throat a little. “But I definitely like your version of a romantic dinner better than mine.”

“We should clean up this…” _mess_ was not a strong enough word, and Justice seemed to have come to the same conclusion. “This destruction. It is unfair on Orana.”

“Later.” Hawke grabbed a handful of Justice’s ass and pulled him closer, shifting onto his side to face him. “She’s at Fenris’s. Honestly, I think at this point she knows us too well. I set her whipping a full bowl of cream and she asked if _messeres would be wanting some privacy tonight._ I had planned on us making it to the bedroom before things got really interesting – but, in hindsight, probably best she went. I think she might have run in here with a wet cloth when she heard the first crash.”

“We will make this right before she returns.”

“We will.” Hawke looked around and grimaced. “As much as possible anyway. At least – something survived.” He reached out and dragged the box of chocolates towards them.

“We have already taken three each.” Justice looked hungrily at the box. “More would be unwise.”

“Mm, I agree. How about…” He trailed his fingers up Justice’s chest, loving the hitch in his breath as he brushed one glowing nipple. “We take the box upstairs. There’s a bath waiting – which, now turns out to have been a very good idea.” He grinned, and let his hand wander up to trace faint patterns on Justice’s neck. Justice purred, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned into the touch.

“Yes,” Justice growled softly. “Yes to the bath – and to the chocolates. To _upstairs._ ”

Hawke left Justice in the bathroom to take the chocolates to the bedroom, and when he returned the air was filled with steam. Justice knelt beside the tub with his hand submerged, a faint red glow hovering around his fingers.

“I heated the water,” he said. “I assumed that was what you intended?”

“A cold bath might be a bit of a mood-killer.” Hawke reached up to run his fingers through his hair, and discovered a thick glob of something sticky – the crushed remains of a fancy cake, on inspection – and cringed. “Though right now I’d take it.”

“You are beautiful.” Justice approached Hawke, the warm aura fading from his fingertips. “Even like this.” He tilted his head. “You look flushed.”

“After what we just did on the dining table? I’d imagine I am.” Hawke grinned and grabbed Justice by the hips, pulling him in close. He licked a spot of buttercream off his nose with a chuckle.

“You are holding me very tight.” Hawke began to relax his grip but Justice pushed forward into it with a groan. “That was not a complaint. And your eyes are dilated.” He reached up and pressed his fingertips against Hawke’s neck – he hunted for a pulse, but the soft brush of the pads against Hawke’s skin was enough to make him gasp. “Your pulse is racing. You said an hour?”

“How long’s it been?” Hawke was kneading Justice’s ass – he didn’t even remember moving his hands to grab it, and a heavy heat was building low inside him. He wasn’t sure if the effect was moving that fast or if Justice had simply drawn his attention to it, but either way, it was unmistakable.

“I am uncertain. It felt like only minutes but – perhaps half an hour? Three quarters?” Justice swallowed – a mix of nervousness and raw hunger in his eyes.

“You feeling anything yet?”

“I desire you.” His voice was low, and seemed to wrap around Hawke’s spine and coil down into his gut. “But that is always the case.”

Hawke drew him towards the bath – his skin was definitely prickling with heat now, and the swirling eddies of warm air against his flesh was enough to leave him aching to be touched. He didn’t care all that much about getting clean anymore – he wanted Justice to force him down on his knees, fuck his throat again, or bend him over and take him roughly on the bathroom floor – one hand over his mouth and his teeth burrowing into his flesh. He still had self-control, however, though for how much longer was hard to say. He slid into the water and leaned back against one end of the tub, his thighs splayed open.

“Join me?”

“Oh…” Justice’s voice trailed off as his foot slid into the steaming water.

“That feel good?”

“Mm,” Justice replied. He moved stiffly, gripping the edge of the tub hard as he stepped fully into the water. He sat on the rim, swirling his fingers in the water.

“You all right?”

“I am adjusting. To the heat – to the sensations.” He tilted his head back with a satisfied groan. “I understand. Anders is relaxed here – he allows sloth to tempt him. I did not understand how the act of bathing could be such a distraction.”

“It’s a good one.” His voice seemed to drag across Hawke’s skin – it was torture seeing his lean, nude body so close but not having it pressed against him. “I mean, it has to be done, might as well enjoy it, right?”

“You are correct.”

Justice descended into the water slowly. His lips parted softly as the warm water lapped up his thighs, over his hips to his waist. Hawke could see his fingers clench tighter on the edge of the bath, then Justice turned his back and lay back fully against Hawke’s chest. The water sloshed from side to side, lapping up over his chest and sending dancing reflections of firelight up against the high ceiling. Hawke wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him close with a growl.

“Here,” Hawke groaned against his ear. “Let me show you.”

It was hard to take this slow – _hard_ was definitely the word for it, Hawke’s erection pressed against Justice’s back as he ran his hands over the flat planes of muscle and traced jagged glowing lines of blue over his skin. Justice purred and his head fell back against Hawke’s shoulder, lips soft and slack, eyes closed with blue glinting between his lashes.

“Your touch,” Justice gasped. “It feels – is this the bath or – oh, Garrett – it’s so good – it _burns._ ”

“There we go,” Hawke murmured. He tugged Justice’s earlobe between his teeth as he slowly rubbed the sweat and smeared cream and fruit from his body, and Justice moaned shakily and dropped his hands into the water to grip Hawke’s thighs. His grip was bruisingly tight, and as Hawke kissed his way down his neck he felt the rapid flutter of his pulse.

“Slide down, love.”

Justice descended until the water was almost up to his chin, the ends of his hair floating on the surface as Hawke scooped handfuls of water up to wash the darkened gold strands. Justice pressed against his hands as they combed through the wet hair, the low rumble in his chest continuous as he panted and arched.

“There.” Hawke slid his hands down over Justice’s shoulders and gently drew him back up against him with a growl. “How does that feel?”

“I…” Justice’s voice shook, and he threw one arm back to wrap around Hawke’s neck. “Touch me – don’t stop – please, love – Garrett…”

“But I’m not clean yet,” Hawke said with a smirk. He bit Justice’s ear sharply, a sudden contrast to the gentle skim of his hands over submerged skin. He gripped Justice’s hips and pulled him to him, his cock aching as he rutted against his ass. “I – fuck it, I can’t – can’t tease like this. Maker that feels good – _shit._ ” He let his head fall against Justice’s wet shoulder, holding him in place as he thrust raggedly against him.

“Touch me,” Justice growled. “Now – please.” His grip tightened and he arched his back, rolling his hips in time with Hawke’s thrusts.

Hawke released his hip and wrapped his shaking hand around Justice’s shaft. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and every beat sent pulses of heat across his skin. His toes curled and his breath shook – he could feel everything. Every drop of water cooling on his skin, the soft, warm lapping of the surface of the bath, Justice’s own rapid pulse where their skin touched. He bit down on Justice’s shoulder with a groan and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts.

“I want _everything_ tonight,” he gasped against his skin. He trailed open mouthed kisses up from his shoulder over his neck, pausing to murmur against his warm, wet skin. “Your mouth, your ass, your cock in me – we’re not going to sleep, we’re not going to stop, I want to see you well-fucked and whimpering, love.”

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Justice panted, thrusting against Hawke’s palm.

“I’m going to fuck you against the wall,” Hawke rasped. “I want to see my come running down your thighs. I want you moaning my name while you take my cock – no, I want you _screaming._ Maker, I love the sounds you make.”

Justice groaned, his fingernails burrowing into Hawke’s thighs as their bodies writhed together, sending water sloshing over the sides of the tub. Hawke could feel the sweet, tight build of tension inside him. His cock throbbed as it dragged over Justice’s skin and he grunted against his neck as his hips bucked desperately. He was trembling, chest heaving as he panted roughly, and Justice was no more composed. He strained and arched as Hawke circled a nipple with a wet finger and skimmed his thumb over the head of his cock. Below the water everything was smooth and slick and hot, and Justice’s rough growl became a whimper as Hawke repeated the movement.

“Please,” Justice gasped. “I can’t – I can’t think – it’s so hot so – oh – nngh…”

“That’s it, beautiful,” Hawke groaned. “Fuck, you sound so good.” His voice dissolved into a harsh grunt as his cock slid against Justice’s wet skin. It wasn’t enough – he was desperate to climax, trembling with need as he stroked Justice into incoherence.

Justice twisted his head around, gripped a handful of Hawke’s hair to angle his face, and kissed him hard. It was a difficult angle for them both, it was rough and messy – and it was perfect. Hawke grunted against Justice’s lips as they moved together, nibbling and sucking and teasing with languid sweeps of tongue Justice growled in response – he tasted of chocolate and lyrium, sweet and bitter and tingling with raw power as he held Hawke in place and claimed him, owned him. Hawke rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock, gave two more quick, firm strokes, and Justice shuddered against him with a loud moan into Hawke’s mouth.

Hawke pulled back as Justice’s grip in his hair slackened – the kiss was good but this was better. Every slow stroke dragged another shaky moan from Justice’s spit-slick lips, he arched and trembled through the aftershocks, and Hawke was merciless. He swirled his thumb against the sensitive, twitching head, feeling the warmth of Justice’s come bursting against his skin before being swept away by the water. The sounds Justice made were beautiful – breathless and broken as his body shivered against Hawke’s chest – but Hawke needed more than sounds and barely-there friction.

“Kneel up,” he gasped, shifting his hands to Justice’s hips.

They moved together, water sliding from their glistening bodies as Justice rose onto his knees and – at Hawke’s instruction – braced his hands against the sides of the tub and pressed his thighs together. Hawke’s breath caught at the sight of him, the slight forward hunch of his shoulders as he pushed his hips back, the shimmering blue cracks that blazed among the scars and freckles on his skin, and the firm curve of his ass.

Hawke grabbed a bottle of scented bath oil from the shelf beside the bath, prayed briefly to the Maker it wasn’t anything that would sting, and slicked his cock with a groan. He was so close already, even the brief friction from his oiled fingers made his skin flush with heat and his thighs shake. He looped one arm around Justice’s waist, and slid his oiled cock between his firm, taut thighs.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and dropped his forehead against Justice’s shoulder. “Oh – _fuck._ ”

He grabbed Justice’s hips as he began to thrust – the glide of skin on skin, the warm, tight pressure of Justice’s muscled thighs clenching on his length – it was incredibly intense. Justice’s skin hummed faintly – almost too faintly to feel, but the places where it cracked and glowed almost seemed to vibrate when the sensitive head of Hawke’s cock rubbed over them. He whimpered and thrust faster, the water splashing between them and wet skin on skin obscenely loud as their bodies slapped together.

“Justice,” he gasped – and again, again, he panted Justice’s name on every breath, clinging tightly to him as his pleasure shattered him. His cock pulsed in the grip of Justice’s thighs, and he felt the hot, slick glide of his own come around him as he spilled onto the damp, glowing flesh. It was almost unbearable, his cock burning with intense sensation as pulses of heat danced over his skin and snapped at his nerves. Finally, he sagged against Justice’s back with a shudder and a moan, and wrapped both arms tightly around his waist.

“Wash quickly,” Justice said. He reached behind him to stroke Hawke’s trembling thigh – and his touch was gentle and soothing, but there was iron in his voice and his glow was burning bright. “I do not wish to wait too long for more of this.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little bit of blood in this chapter - nothing extreme, just some slightly over-enthusiastic biting, but I thought I'd pop a warning on it just in case :) Enjoy!

Everything was raw and aching – the cool night air across his heated skin, Hawke’s fingers interlaced with his, the way Hawke groaned as he slammed the bedroom door and pushed Justice up against it. That was better – Justice shuddered and pulled him closer. He needed skin against skin, Hawke’s breath against his neck, and the urgent friction of his cock grinding against Justice’s own.

“Can I fuck you against the door?” Hawke whispered against his neck.

His hands wandered over Justice’s skin, squeezing his hips and tracing the outlines of his ribs until he squirmed. Justice wanted to reply but he was breathless, barely able to think. Hawke’s fingers made his skin prickle pleasantly, sending waves of tingling pleasure over his scalp and down his spine. He was warm and heavy where he leaned against Justice’s chest, his beard tickled his neck, and his breath was hot as he mouthed his way up to his ear. And his cock – Justice groaned as Hawke rolled his hips, leaving his length throbbing, aching for more. It was all too good – all he could do was writhe and gasp as Hawke’s thrusts became more rough, more urgent.

“Please, love,” Hawke gasped. “Tell me what you want – anything – Maker, just let me come. On you, in you, kneeling at your feet I’ll – I’ll do anything I just need to _come.”_

“Yes,” Justice managed. “Yes – against the door – please, love – hard…”

“Yeah?” Hawke pulled back just long enough to spin Justice around face-first against the unyielding wood. “Fuck, I love it when you’re like this.” He nudged Justice’s thighs apart with a groan against his ear. “So desperate you’ll let a _mortal_ take control.”

“I said – nothing – about control,” Justice panted. “I doubt either of us – have that.”

He didn’t know how Hawke could be so coherent – he was grinding helplessly against Justice’s ass, his breath coming in rough, sharp gasps against his ear, and his hands were relentless – but his voice was almost steady. Hawke squeezed and rubbed over his skin, pinching his nipples hard before sliding down to grip his hips again. He groaned as Hawke groped roughly at his ass, spreading him so he could grind his cock deep into the cleft.

“True.” Hawke’s breathless chuckle became a shaky moan as he thrust against him. “Maker, this is even better than I remembered – are you handling it all right?”

“Yes,” Justice gasped shakily. “It is intense. I can think of nothing but – your touch – your body. Nngh…” He groaned as Hawke pulled back for a moment – a moment that almost _hurt_ as Justice was robbed of the warm bulk of him against his back – and when he returned his cock was replaced by two oiled fingers that teased Justice’s entrance.

“It gets better,” Hawke growled. He thrust his fingers into Justice – not quite slow, not quite gentle, but he was too desperate to care about the burn around the stretch and thrust back against them with a moan. “It’s enough of a challenge trying to wear you two out on a normal night.” He flicked his tongue against Justice’s ear and Justice cried out, arching his back as Hawke’s fingers worked him open. “Now at least I’ve got a chance of keeping up.”

“More,” Justice groaned. “More, _more,_ love.”

“Shh. Soon.”

“Fuck me.”

“Maker, _yes._ ” Hawke wrapped his free arm around Justice’s waist and pulled him close, his cock rigid against his thigh. “You don’t talk like this enough.”

“I disappoint you?” Even through the thick haze of arousal, the thought hurt.

“Disappoint? Andraste’s ass, _never._ You’re gorgeous,” he slipped in a third finger, and Justice cried out sharply. “You’re an amazing lover – I still think about our first time, you had me _begging_ and when you finally stopped holding back and gave it to me hard – Maker, I thought I was going to pass out, it was so good.” Hawke rolled his hips against Justice’s thigh, gripping him tighter as his fingers plunged into him. “There’s just something delightfully dirty about the word _fuck_ in your voice.”

“Then I will say it again, when you do it.”

“Mm?” Hawke chuckled against his neck, and the gust of his warm breath on his skin almost made Justice whimper. “Oh you’re right – I’m not _in control_ at all, am I? You’re – nngh, _Maker_ – still going to have me begging tonight.”

The thrusts of his fingers inside Justice were getting faster, harder – Hawke bucked desperately against his thigh as he jerked Justice’s hips back and quickened his pace. Every stroke left Justice’s thighs trembling, his back arching, and he moaned loud and shameless as he braced his hands against the door and took everything Hawke gave him. His cock jumped with every thrust, and he could feel pre-come beading on the tip. He needed more.

“If you continue to tease, there will be consequences,” he growled, and was rewarded by a shaky moan against his neck. “There will be _justice._ ”

“Fucking Maker that’s…” Hawke withdrew his fingers, breathing heavily. “I don’t know if I should do what you say or tease you ‘til you break.”

“Don’t,” Justice moaned, close to a plea. “I want you – I love you – Garrett I need…”

“I know,” Hawke growled, grabbing a handful of Justice’s ass and spreading him with a snarl against his ear. “You need my cock. Say it.”

“I need your cock.” It wasn’t the way he naturally spoke, but he didn’t object – and if he’d known what it did to Hawke, he’d have done it much sooner. Hawke whimpered and his hips jerked against Justice’s ass, the blunt head of his cock pressing hard against his loosened entrance.

“Tell me what you want,” Hawke said, and a low rumble from Justice reminded him of his place. “I’ll do anything you command,” he murmured, and Justice could hear the sideways smile Hawke wore so often.

“Fuck me,” Justice said. He reached for Anders’ mind – he wasn’t sure he was doing this _right_ but he loved the way Hawke groaned in response. “Fuck me hard, _mortal._ ”

Hawke’s breath was hot against his neck, his grip on his ass bruising, and his hips snapped forward as he moaned Justice’s name. Justice felt the firm pressure against his entrance, and then the hot, slick glide as Hawke slid into him. It was so much _more_ than usual – every twitch of Hawke’s stiff length awakened flushes of deep, liquid pleasure, and when it nudged his prostate he practically screamed, shuddering helplessly as his head tipped forward to rest against the solid, reassuring wood.

“Oh Maker – oh Maker’s fucking balls, Justice,” Hawke gasped. His arms wrapped tightly around him, clinging to him like a drowning man. “You’re so tight, so hot, I…” he whimpered, mouthing wetly at Justice’s shoulder.

“Move,” Justice choked out.

Hawke rolled his hips – slowly, almost cautiously, and they both cried out. Raw pleasure left Justice’s body aching, his knees shaking, and as his fingers tensed against the door he feared he might collapse. Hawke’s thick arms around his waist and chest held him steady, and when he thrust again Justice moaned but didn’t fall. His lips were softly parted, his eyes half closed, and his cock ached – no, burned – painfully hard and throbbing as Hawke sped up.

They were both too desperate to draw it out – Hawke grunted harshly with each jerk of his hips, fingers digging in like claws against Justice’s skin as he kissed and sucked at his neck and shoulder. Justice pushed back with low, needy groans, his shoulders shaking and abs clenching as the world narrowed to scalding, white-hot pleasure. He could feel Hawke’s thick length stretching him, seeming to plunge deeper into him with every thrust. He was filled by him, consumed by him, and all he could do was arch against his damp, muscular chest and take it hard.

“More,” Justice panted. Their bodies drove together faster, loud, ringing slaps accompanying every powerful thrust. “ _More_.”

Hawke jerked him back away from the door, taking a step back so that Justice was bent sharply at the waist. His hands slid down the polished wood, his hair hung dripping around his face, and he felt Hawke kick his stance wider. He was bent over, spread out under him, and then Hawke began to thrust again.

“Garrett!” Justice’s voice shook as he cried out. Hawke’s movements were almost vicious, jolting his flickering body as he fucked him roughly. The new angle left him spread wide and exposed, and so open for Hawke’s deep, powerful thrusts. His nerves sang and ached, and his skin tingled deliciously where Hawke’s calloused fingers gripped his hips.

“That’s it love,” Hawke panted. “That what you need?”

“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes – _yes._ ”

“Oh _fuck_.” Hawke’s fingers dug into his skin, and his next thrust was accompanied by a shaky groan. “Justice – love – you’re perfect – sweet fucking Maker I’m…”

He hunched forward over Justice’s body, panting open-mouthed against his back as his hips jerked and his thick cock pulsed and twitched in Justice’s body. His grip was bruising, and his harsh grunts were almost sobs as he shuddered against him. Justice groaned as he felt the hot, sticky flood of Hawke’s come inside him, and Hawke’s warm breath against his skin.

“Don’t stop,” Justice growled, pushing back against him.

“Not planning on it,” Hawke said breathlessly, grinding into him with a groan. “Not like this stuff’ll let me – nngh – go soft for a while yet.” He whimpered, thighs trembling where they pressed against Justice’s. “You have no idea how good you feel…” he snapped his hips sharply, dragging a shaky moan from both of them. “So hot and slick – fuck – you’re full of my come and you still want _more._ ”

“Yes – more,” Justice gasped. Hawke’s shallow thrusts sent hot, sticky trickles down his thighs, he was stretched and dripping, writhing on Hawke’s cock and it wasn’t _enough._ “You have slowed – you are teasing – I can’t – love I can’t _take_ it.”

Hawke moved fast – he pulled out of Justice with a grunt and pulled him around to face him. Justice snarled and dragged Hawke’s lips against his – he hadn’t seen him face to face in _minutes,_ it was unbearable, it was torture. He bit and sucked at his lips until Hawke whimpered, exploring his flushed face and sopping hair with urgently grasping hands as Hawke pushed him back against the door and lifted his thighs up onto his hips. Hawke’s tongue met his as his cock rubbed against him, gliding slick and twitching between his cheeks. He moaned against Hawke’s lips as every thrust teased his sensitive entrance.

“Say it again?” Hawke gasped. “Please?”

“Fuck me,” Justice said – he didn’t know if it was a command or a plea, but it didn’t matter. Hawke fumbled between their bodies for a moment, lined himself up, and sank into Justice with a gasp of his name.

They moved together, a tangle of limbs and sweaty bodies as Hawke began to pound into him without hesitation. His brutal thrusts jolted Justice’s body against the door, and he wrapped his arms around Hawke’s back and sunk his nails into his skin to anchor himself in place. His trembling thighs locked around Hawke’s waist, ankles crossed as he hung on and Hawke gripped his ass and slammed into his eager body, making the door rattle in its frame.

They kissed hard, messy and eager with clashes of teeth and hot, desperate sounds muffled by their lips. Cooling water from their hair dripped over heated skin, and every scuff of nails on flesh and every stifled cry brought Justice closer to his peak.

He coiled his fingers in wet, dark hair and pulled Hawke’s head back – bit into the soft flesh of his shoulder with a snarl as his thick cock stretched and filled him. Obscene wet noises came with every thrust, he could feel Hawke’s seed smeared on his skin, and he tasted blood as his teeth burrowed into Hawke’s skin. He almost pulled back to apologise – his mind was fogged with desire but he knew he’d pushed too far – then Hawke’s hand slid into his hair and pulled him close.

“Yeah – like that,” Hawke grunted. “Again – please, _please,_ hurt me.”

Justice growled and bit down again, worrying the abused flesh as Hawke whimpered and his hips jerked. They moved together in gasps and snarls and shaky moans – blood stained his lips as Justice moved to Hawke’s neck and sucked hard enough to bruise, and his fingernails raked down over his back until Hawke arched and trembled and whined desperately.

Justice left a trail of bruises over Hawke’s neck – not quite biting here, but letting his teeth rasp over the sensitive marks – and when he reached his ear he sank his teeth into the lobe and tugged roughly. Hawke yelped, and his cock twitched inside him. Justice’s own climax was building – he could feel the raw heat of it, the fire in his veins and the catch in his breath. Hawke held him close, gripping his ass as he drove his cock up into his slick, sensitive hole, and rubbing gentle circles on his scalp with his fingertips. Justice bit and sucked and scratched at the beautiful mortal between his thighs, wringing every broken, desperate sound he could from between those kiss-swollen lips.

He snarled against Hawke’s skin, but as Hawke’s cock brushed the sensitive place inside him again, he could not hold back a whimper. He clung to him, bucking against the warrior’s stomach as he chased the last trace of friction he needed. The warmth of Hawke’s skin, the taste of his blood and sweat clinging to his lips, the rough, urgent grunts against his ear – it was everything. He shuddered, strained, and screamed Hawke’s name as the glowing trails of his come streaked Hawke’s stomach and dripped between their bodies.

“That’s – fucking beautiful, love,” Hawke groaned, pressing soft kisses against his temple, down to his ear, and encouraging back so he could look him in the eye. Hawke’s eyes were filled with desire – but affection too, as he ran his thumb over Justice’s lips. “Love the sounds you make,” he groaned. “Your face – nngh – your lips, Justice…”

Justice’s head hit the door as Hawke kissed him roughly, cupping his jaw to hold him in place as he swept his tongue over his lips then parted them and kissed him hard and deep. Justice didn’t care – he kissed back just as easily, hands gripping Hawke’s hair as Hawke’s roughened groans broke into a keen and his cock pulsed inside him again.

Hawke slid to his knees, keeping Justice wrapped around him as they slumped to the floor together. They panted harshly, wrapped up in each other with their foreheads pressed together and sweat cooling on their skin.

Justice still needed more, and Hawke was still hard as he slid out of him, but for now some of the urgency was gone. Desire clung to them both in a haze, the scent of sweat and sex heavy in the air around them, but they could bear to stop – even if only for a moment. Hawke laced his fingers with Justice’s and kissed him again – slow and sweet, dragging short, low groans from him as he teased him with slow flicks of tongue and gentle nibbles of his lips.

“Catch your breath,” Hawke murmured as they broke apart. “I’ve got a surprise for you.” He trailed his fingers over Justice’s neck and bit his lip, a playful smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “And I can’t wait for you to try it on.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter references my fic Don't Wait Up, but honestly all you need to know about it is that Anders wore an outfit of Isabela's after losing a bet and Hawke appreciated it a _lot_.

“There’s a way out, if you need it.”

Hawke sat beside Justice on the bed, a slim box resting across his thighs. They’d taken all the time they could bear to wipe the fluids from their bodies and catch their breaths – but Maker, it was hard not to pull Justice down and lose himself in his body again.

“Out?”

“If it’s too intense.” Hawke ran his fingers up Justice’s thigh, not quite able to resist. “There’s an antidote – in the drawer right there. Should have mentioned it before but I was–“ he licked his lips, “distracted. You look like you’re about to combust, love.”

“I do not wish to stop. I do not wish to _wait._ ”

Justice cupped Hawke’s face with both hands and kissed him. It was rough and desperate, with more tongue than Hawke generally appreciated but right now he’d take it. He felt consumed, helpless as Justice dragged a groan from him and his lips moved roughly against Hawke’s. Fuck, it was good – a kiss that made him want more, aching with need as Justice’s fingers dug into his cheeks and he growled against Hawke’s open, wet mouth. He wanted to be held down, bent over the edge of the bed with his ass spread for Justice’s cock, for his fingers, or for that wet, eager tongue.

“You said – a surprise?” Justice pulled back panting, visibly fighting his own desires. Justice’s willpower was steel, but he was still one move, one breath from throwing Hawke down and letting their bodies take over.

“I did,” Hawke said breathlessly.

Justice opened the box, the lid falling to the ground as he lifted the soft mass of fabric. Shimmering blue satin cascaded from his fingers, and as Justice caught the straps and shook gently, it fell into shape. It was a chemise – delicate, almost weightless, with a plunging V neckline. It would reach the floor when Justice wore it, with daring slits up each side to expose his legs right to the hip.

“It’s soft,” Justice murmured. He held the trailing length against his chest, then to his lips, purring against the silky fabric. “I didn’t – I never knew _anything_ was so soft. Like liquid – but _more_.”

“You like it?”

“I do.” Justice stood, looking down the length of his body with the shining garment held against his chest. “I have been curious – Anders enjoys the feel of such things but I have never – I was curious, the night Anders wore Isabela’s clothing for you.”

“That was quite a night.” Hawke stood, and moved behind Justice with his hands on his hips. “Now you’ve got your own.”

Justice’s body was warm and pliant against his, and as he raised the chemise to slip it over his arms Hawke couldn’t resist pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and onto his shoulder. As he wriggled into it, his ass shifted against Hawke’s cock and it took all his willpower not to push him against the wall and sink into him again. They were both flushed and panting, clumsy with desire as the satin slid down over Justice’s shoulders and Hawke tugged it down over his body.

The light from his skin shone through it as if it wasn’t there – bright, electric tones in sharp contrast to the deep blue. It clung to his angular frame, gleaming over his muscular chest and back, and draping beautifully over his pert ass. Hawke gripped his exposed thighs, and bucked his hips against him with a growl. The satin was impossibly soft against his cock, sending a bolt of raw pleasure down to his toes – but he could wait. Justice was worth teasing.

Hawke stepped away reluctantly to admire him. Justice was radiant – his blond hair hanging in damp waves, his skin flushed, and his lips parted softly. Beads of moisture clung to his stubbled jaw and trickled amidst freckles over his exposed chest, and the silk barely covered his pebbled nipples. Hawke raked his gaze over his body, then practically whimpered as Justice’s hands began to wander over the expanse of blue.

“There’s more,” Hawke said – breath catching as Justice’s fingers skimmed over his waist, circled his nipples and then descended sharply. He palmed his cock through the fabric and gave an eager, shuddering cry.

“More?” Justice gasped. He met Hawke’s eye, and closed the distance between them in an instant.

Hawke wrapped one arm around Justice’s waist, loving the way he arched and rolled his hips as their lips met in a heated kiss. Every movement set the silk shimmering, and Justice moaned at each soft whisper of satin against his skin. Hawke pulled him back towards the bed, groaning against his lips, and as soon as he could reach he pulled back the layers of tissue in the box.

“Show me,” Justice panted against his lips.

Hawke pressed the stiff roll of fabric into his hand, and Justice reluctantly pulled away to let it unroll. He frowned at Hawke, pale gold silk and a trail of matched cord hanging in his grip.

“This corset belongs to Isabela,” he said. “Anders promised her that it would be returned.”

“Oh – thank the Maker, _that’s_ your objection.” Hawke laughed and grabbed Justice by the hips, pulling him closer with a faint grunt. “I thought you hated it. That’s the _surprise,_ love – I convinced her to part with it.”

“How?”

“I told her how much I liked it.” Hawke rocked his hips, and they both groaned at the slow, tantalizing friction.  “And I told her how much Anders liked me _liking_ it. Several times, in some interesting positions.” Hawke laughed, kneading Justice’s ass as his cock dragged against the dampening silk. “Then she thanked me for the gossip, and insisted on gold anyway – but it’s ours. Do you like it?”

“It is beautiful.” Justice traced the swirling embroidery with a fingertip. “I am – cautious, in truth. This constricts – Anders does not think of it as pain, but not comfort either.”

“No pressure.” Hawke took the corset, unhooking the tiny gold hooks that ran down the busk with one hand, keeping the other firmly locked on Justice’s hip. “Well I mean – quite a lot of pressure, mostly around your middle – but you know. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“I wish to try.”

Hawke moved around behind him, trailing his hand across Justice’s hips and letting his fingertips _just_ graze the outline of his cock. It was tenting the fabric, the silk damp and clinging to the head, and Justice hissed at the brief contact. It was over too quickly, and Hawke wrapped the corset around Justice’s waist, latching the busk as he trailed chaste kisses over Justice’s neck, his breath soft and warm against the flushed, glowing skin.

The corset was designed for Isabela’s shape, but pale gold ribbons adjusted the hip gores to fit Justice’s narrower shape, and with the corset settled in a slight V at the back, his ribs were accommodated easily. Hawke gently smoothed the loose corset into place, settling it against Justice’s hips and smoothing out twists in the lacing. It already looked incredible, emphasizing the jut of Justice’s slightly canted hips and the narrow, angular shape of his body.

“Ready for that pressure I mentioned?” Hawke murmured against his skin.

Justice nodded silently – his hands were at his waist, tracing boning channels and stiff edging, and when Hawke glimpsed his face through the fall of his hair, he looked enraptured. Hawke wrapped the laces around his fingers and stepped in close, rolling his hips against Justice’s ass with a groan.

“You’re beautiful, love,” he said – and pulled.

The whisper of cord through eyelets was drowned out by Justice’s moan. He threw back his head, wide eyed and gasping, as the layered silk slid tighter.

“You like that?”

“It is – strange – I do not understand… I did not expect, I assumed this was for your pleasure, that I would enjoy your desire – but this…” Hawke tugged again, drawing on the lower laces to tighten the corset around his belly. Justice’s waist narrowed dramatically, and both men groaned.

“Any pain?” Hawke couldn’t resist stopping for a moment, one hand flat against Justice’s corseted belly as he rocked helplessly against him. He could come like this – staining silk and whimpering against Justice’s shoulder, one hand gripping his rigid, narrow waist.

“None.”

“Good – that’s good.” Hawke tugged at the top laces one handed, and Justice’s ribs tapered slightly as the V narrowed. “Now?”

“No pain,” Justice gasped. “But – a tightness. My breath is weak – Anders does not believe this can cause harm, but how can it not?” His breath quickened – harsh and shallow – but he didn’t pull away. His head fell back, and Hawke pressed a soothing kiss just below his ear. “Mortals are reckless – if this can harm our body I cannot, I will not…”

“It’s safe, love.” Hawke pulled him closer, the hand that held the laces trapped between them. “Anders knows what he’s doing, and I trust him. Let him show you how to breathe – yes, like that.” Justice’s breath settled, and he groaned softly as Hawke’s hand moved over the curve of his hip.

“I’m going to tie this off,” Hawke said against his ear.

“No – _more_. You tightened it further on Anders – I can remember, I know how he felt and it was more than this.”

“You almost panicked.” Hawke flicked his tongue against Justice’s earlobe, making him moan. “I know Anders could go tighter – Maker, by the time we were done I almost had it closed. He looked _so_ good bent over the desk – wish you could have seen him how I did, I held him down with my hand right _here,_ ” Hawke pressed his hand against the back of the corset. “Gave it to him just how he likes it, rough and deep.”

“I am not Anders,” Justice growled, “I will not be restrained.”

“Mm, I know.” Hawke nipped at his lobe with a smirk. “That’s my point.”

“Infuriating mortal.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Justice spun in his arms and gripped the back of Hawke’s neck. He kissed him hard, a low rumble of a snarl building as their lips met. The kiss was all heat and the bitter taste of the Fade, they moved together as if they could not bear to be apart. Lips were crushed against teeth as they moaned and panted, and Hawke sank into the kiss gladly. Flicks of tongue and gentle, teasing tugs of Justice’s lips spurred him on to more – harder, rougher, desperate and hungry.

“Tie it,” Justice said raggedly, their lips almost touching. “Quickly.”

Hawke fumbled behind Justice’s back – urgent need built between them with every drag of Justice’s teeth against his lower lip, with every rock of their hips together, and every sharp groan against Hawke’s open mouth. He wanted to pull him to the ground, drag him onto his cock and pound up into his body, fingers clenched in the silk as Justice roared his name – but even as his arousal bordered on painful, Hawke knew there were more rewarding things.

“Inside me, mortal – _now_.” Justice pushed Hawke towards the bed, but stopped as Hawke dropped to his knees.

“That’s going to happen,” Hawke grinned. “Soon.”

Justice’s rough growl ended as Hawke’s hands settled on his thighs, gently encouraging them apart. He looked up at his glowing figure – intimidating and gorgeous, cock straining against the gleaming fabric, waist elegantly tapered and chest gleaming in the light. He was perfect. It was a body that demanded worship, and Hawke intended to give in.

He kissed his way over glowing, faintly humming skin, licking cracks of light that sang against his tongue and kissing familiar trails of freckles over toned calves and narrow thighs. Hawke surged up onto his knees to bite at the ripple of skin at the lower edge of the corset, and to kiss over the creases in the satin where it hung over Justice’s stiff length. Hawke gripped Justice’s thighs and slowly, teasingly, swept his tongue over the wet satin clinging to Justice’s cock.

“Garrett,” Justice groaned, tangling his fingers in his hair. “Yes – more.”

“Like this?” Hawke let his tongue dart out again over the leaking head, tasting salt through the silky fabric as Justice’s hips twitched and he panted harshly.

Hawke shifted his hands to grip Justice’s ass, kneading firmly as he trailed kisses over the silk-covered length. Justice alternated between pleading and commanding, his tugs on Hawke’s hair becoming more urgent – almost frantic – as Hawke pressed his tongue against the silk to knead the flat of it against Justice’s balls. The wetness on the fabric was spreading fast – both from Hawke’s eager mouth and from Justice’s arousal. He was rigid and throbbing against Hawke’s lips, and his hips jerked urgently as Hawke denied him what he needed time and time again.

“No more teasing,” Justice growled, nails biting into Hawke’s scalp. “I – please, love – no more.”

“I’m getting mixed signals here.” Hawke grinned, trailing his tongue up Justice’s cock. He wrapped his hand around his own length – almost whimpering in relief – and began to stroke slowly. “Because for a minute there – nngh – it almost sounded as if you were _begging_ , but I know you’d never…”

Justice twisted Hawke’s head back, stepping forward over his body with a growl. His glow brightened, eyes almost white as he wrapped his free hand around his cock over the silk and began to stroke.

“I will fuck your mouth, _mortal,_ ” he snarled. “Do you consent?”

“Yes,” Hawke gasped. The sharp tug on his hair sent a flush of heat racing down his spine, coiling lower as the sweet ache of tension built. He ran his thumb over the tip of his cock, hips bucking against his hand, and Justice pressed the tip of his silk-covered length against Hawke’s softly parted lips.

“Lick.”

Hawke didn’t tease – not with Justice guiding his movements, jerking at his hair to drag Hawke’s tongue to where he wanted it. Hawke lapped at the wet silk, tracing the outline of the head and trailing down the shaft. Damp fabric brushed over his cheek as he licked where he was directed – quick, firm strokes of his tongue that left Justice gasping.

When Hawke reached the tip again he wrapped his lips around it, sucking firmly through the satin until Justice moaned his name and his hips jerked forward. The bitter taste was building as he leaked steadily through the cloth – and Justice broke. He twisted his fingers in Hawke’s hair with a rough cry, tugged the dripping, crumpled silk aside, and thrust his cock between Hawke’s eagerly parted lips.

The taste and thickness of him was almost enough to undo Hawke there and then – his fist pumped his cock desperately as he groaned around the thick, throbbing shaft. It was heavy on his tongue, slick with saliva and the salty rush of pre-come. Hawke traced veins and glowing cracks with the tip of his tongue, bobbing his head as much as Justice allowed as he adjusted to the stretch in his jaw. His lips were wrapped tight around Justice’s length, the frenzied pace of his hand matched by the quick, skilled flicks of tongue as he eased him deeper.

“Relax,” Justice panted. Hawke head was twisted back, every breath a strain as his back arched and his chest heaved. Justice positioned himself above him, his thick cock pressing down against Hawke’s throat. “ _Swallow,_ ” Justice said, skin flaring as he surged forward. “Take it, mortal – take it deep.”

Hawke’s eager whine was cut off by the roll of Justice’s hips, forcing the slick head of his cock into Hawke’s throat. His eyes watered and his hips twitched, thighs tense and trembling as he thrust against his slick palm. Every slow push of Justice’s cock into him made him groan, raw heat building under his strokes as he felt his orgasm build. Saliva slid in a thin trickle over his cheek, he felt the hot, damp press of Justice’s balls against his chin, and Justice’s quiet, awe-struck growl of _good mortal_ pushed him over the edge.

His unrestrained, broken moans were muffled by the thick stretch of Justice’s cock, his throat twitching helplessly as his eyes fell closed and he screamed against the rigid flesh. He felt as if he was burning – every nerve plucked and quivering as tension snapped and uncoiled. His cock twitched in his rough grip, and come coated his shaking fingers. With his mind fogged by pleasure he barely heard Justice’s appreciative moan, but he felt the first jerky, desperate thrust against his lips.

Justice fucked his mouth – it was nothing less than that, no gentleness in his touch as he let pleasure spur him on. His balls slapped Hawke’s chin, his fingers twisted in his hair and his second hand gripped Hawke’s jaw as he held him steady and thrust into him. The slick circle of Hawke’s lips slid over the glistening shaft, and his throat hummed and swallowed around each rough descent. His vision blurred, his lips ached – he lived for this. On his knees, hearing Justice’s breath catch and he low moans growing sharp and urgent as his cock strained between Hawke’s lips.

“Beautiful,” Justice panted. “Your face – wet, flushed, _mine._ I would see you…” he groaned, his grip tightening on Hawke’s jaw. “Would see – dripping, filled, overflowing – my seed on your skin, claiming you – _mine. Ours._ Garrett, love…”

He roared – shaken, desperate, his cock pulsing as thick spurts flooded Hawke’s throat. Hawke swallowed, and gave a choked, broken moan as Justice pulled back. He gave Hawke a moment to breathe, with strands of come clinging to his tongue. His breath was ragged, and mingled fluids spilled in a single, slick trail over his lower lip.

Justice pushed forward again with a rough grunt of Hawke’s name. His thrusts were shallow this time – the twitching head of his cock pumping against Hawke’s tongue as he stroked his hair and murmured praise.

“You are incredible,” he gasped, as Hawke’s fingers slid up his thigh. “The way you _give,_ the way – you love this – I do not understand but I – I see how your skin flushes, I hear your voice and you…” He moaned – Maker, it was close to a whimper, and his cock pulsed against Hawke’s tongue. “Everything I have done with you, with Anders – I had never imagined. When I saw memories of this I never knew – you are magnificent.”

Hawke groaned around his length, and his cheeks hollowed as he sucked firmly. He slipped his fingers between Justice’s legs and soon found his slick, clenching entrance. It twitched against his fingers as he circled it, feeling the warm spill of oil and his own seed trickle over his fingers. This time Justice _did_ whimper, thighs trembling as Hawke worked his cock with languid flicks of tongue and slid two fingers into soft, wet heat.

Justice hunched forward over him, the grip in Hawke’s hair tight but not controlling – Justice clung to him as if he was terrified he might fall. Hawke gripped a shaking thigh with his free hand, thrust steadily with his fingers, and tongued the wet slit and slick shaft as Justice’s hips bucked desperately, jerkily against his mouth. The spirit’s normally commanding voice became a string of broken cries, half-words and shaky keens as Hawke took him apart with every skilled stroke or flick or suck. Justice spilled over his tongue again, his ragged breaths almost sobs as he slumped against Hawke’s face with a last, shuddering cry.

“How much…” Justice dropped to his knees, straddling Hawke’s lap. He was trembling violently, eyes wide and lips shaky as he ran his fingertips reverently over Hawke’s face. “Can a mortal body take this – so much pleasure? So much – so much _everything?_ ”

“Easy, love,” Hawke murmured. He pulled him close, one arm around the narrow waist, loving the shift of boning against his skin as Justice panted and squirmed against him. “Mortal bodies can take a lot. You want to keep going?”

“Please,” Justice moaned. “Oh Garrett – love, more, please.”

His cock was still painfully hard – Maker, he’d forgotten quite how intense this was. The silky chemise had spread out over them both and Hawke could feel the steady spread of slick over his cock as it nudged between Justice’s firm cheeks. He could be inside him with one thrust, hands locked around that corseted waist as he pushed him down and fucked him senseless. Hawke looked around – they were on the floor beside the bed, if what he needed was out of reach…

It wasn’t. Hawke scrabbled at the bedside table until the drawer slid open, and pulled out a small blue glass bottle.

“I cannot.” Even in this state, Justice knew Anders’ rules – Hawke was glad of it, smirking as he nudged the stopper out of the bottle. “It has been only days – I cannot consume lyrium, the risk of addiction…”

“It’s not going in your mouth, love,” Hawke said.

“Oh…” Justice’s thighs clenched against his, and he rocked his hips eagerly against Hawke’s cock. “Then _yes._ ”

“Thought you might say that.”

Hawke let a little of the lyrium spill into his hand. It was intense – it always was, but this was something more. The cold, searing bite of it against his heated flesh left him gasping. He could feel it sinking into his nerves, the barely perceptible vibrations of it coiling through his flesh and wrapping around him from within. He felt bound to it, shaken and panting even from just the little pool of it in his palm. He set the bottle aside, and slid his hands between their bodies.

Tiny drops pattered against his thighs, sending splinters of pain and pleasure burrowing into his flesh. Hawke’s head fell forward against Justice’s chest with a groan, and he pressed wet, whimpering kisses to his chest as he wrapped his lyrium-coated palm around his length. It hurt – _oh Maker,_ it was too much. He muffled his cries against Justice’s skin, and the lyrium on his flesh seemed to resonate against him as the piece of the Fade within Justice called it home.

His lips found a silk-covered nipple, and he mouthed at it eagerly as he stroked his shaft. Oil, come and the snapping, searing slick of lyrium mingled against the rigid flesh. It still hurt – still left him crying out wordlessly against blue silk, tongue working the stiffened peak – but it felt good too. Electric pleasure came in waves, teasing him, urging him on, and Hawke’s fingers dug into Justice’s constrained waist as he nipped at his nipple, and thrust up into his tight, slick hole.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything was raw heat and searing cold – the warm thrum of the drug in his veins, plucking at mortal flesh until it quivered and ached for touch, and the cold, howling tug of lyrium deep inside him. Justice felt flayed by pleasure, his blood boiling with it, and as Hawke rolled his hips he tipped back his head with a strangled cry.

“Ssh, love.” A trail of soft kisses against his straining throat left Justice shuddering, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as tingling pulses ghosted across his skin. “Ssh – there you go, try to breathe.”

He gasped, chest heaving – he hadn’t even realised he’d forgotten to breathe. He could barely think – everything was too good, too intense. He focused – the lyrium throbbed and hummed within him, forced deep by Hawke’s slow, intimate thrusts. His thick shaft left Justice stretched and moaning as Hawke drove up into him, grunting eagerly against his chest.

Justice adjusted to the burn of Hawke’s thrusts – the thickness of him, the snap and wail of the lyrium against his sensitive flesh – and he could feel again. His knees pressed down hard against the rug, satin whispered soft against his skin, and the corset cinching his waist ached in all the right ways. Hawke gripped his side with a snarl, fingertips firm against the boning, and Justice felt incredibly close to him – held tighter than a mortal hand could grip, embraced closer than mortal limbs could offer. The corset was an extension of Hawke, coiled as tight around him as Anders around his heart.

“You’re shaking,” Hawke groaned against his chest. His breath ghosted through the damp silk, leaving Justice’s nipple aching to be touched. “Oh love, oh Maker you’re – you’re perfect, so tight and slick and – nngh.”

Hawke cupped Justice’s ass with his free hand and pulled him close with each buck of his hips. It was unbearably slow, heat building each time Justice rocked against him and with Hawke’s every moan against his chest. Hawke sucked one peaked nipple through the fabric, swirling his tongue in a way that woke sparks of pleasure under Justice’s skin. His nerves hummed, heat coiling down his spine to pool as liquid heat deep within him. A rasp of teeth left him crying out urgently, his cock twitching against the crumpled skirt of the chemise. There was slickness spilling down his thighs, forced out of him by each thrust of Hawke’s cock – come and lyrium and oil mingling to trickle over his skin and soak the gleaming satin.

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” Hawke grunted. He nipped at one stiff peak and moved to the other, tugging hard through the silk until Justice keened. “That’s – there, keep moving like that, Andraste’s ass you’re good.”

Justice rolled his hips, feeling the corset creak against his straining abs with every thrust. It felt good – pressure without restraint, making him arch just to feel it bite into his skin. Hawke’s grip on him tightened as he began to thrust up roughly into him, no longer holding back as his thick shaft plunged deep into Justice’s ass. He could feel his own pleasure building, hot and tight in his belly, fire in his nerves and a shudder in his voice as he drove himself down on Hawke’s cock again and again. Their rapid pace set the chemise twisting on his body, the liquid glide of satin on sensitized flesh made him cry out urgently, gripping his own thigh with one hand and sliding the other into Hawke’s mass of dark hair, holding him against his chest as Hawke growled and panted against sweat-slick skin.

“Love your ass,” Hawke groaned, his words punctuated by the loud impact of skin on skin. “You’re so – so fucking good, I can’t – I’m gonna…”

Hawke grunted sharply, his fingers digging into Justice’s flesh as he leaned back and pulled Justice down on top of him. Justice went willingly, collapsing against Hawke’s chest with a growl as Hawke braced his feet against the floor and began to pound him in earnest. He wanted to pin Hawke’s hands to the ground and ride him, or grip him by the throat and listen to him choke and gasp as Justice clenched around his shaft – but he was overwhelmed. The drag of fabric on his skin, the scalding burn and song of lyrium taking him apart from the inside out, and the rapid, powerful thrusts of Hawke’s cock inside him – it was all too much. He slumped against Hawke’s chest, his body loose and pliant and quivering as Hawke gripped his tapered waist two handed and gave it to him hard.

Justice could barely think, much less speak – he gasped and snarled broken fragments of words that might have been _more_ or _harder_ , slipping into ancient tongues forgotten in the mortal world, into the coiling, air-shaking tongue of the Fade, and into guttural, wordless growls as Hawke’s body arched under him. Through the fog of his own pleasure he could still hear Hawke’s shuddering moans, his rough grunt and hiss of Justice’s name. Hawke shuddered, his fingertips bit into Justice’s skin, and his cock throbbed and pulsed as he came, panting against Justice’s shoulder.  

Hawke rolled him onto his back and Justice went eagerly, locking his thighs around his hips as he desperately tried to drag him closer – deeper. Hawke sat up panting, his hands still locked on Justice’s waist, thumbs tracing patterns against the stiff silk panels.

“You – doing all right love?” Hawke panted. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his chest, and his tense arms shook as he tightened his grip.

“More,” Justice groaned.

“’s gonna happen.” Hawke laughed breathlessly. “Need to check – need to be sure.”

“It’s so much.” Justice dug his heels into Hawke’s ass, biting back a cry as he felt his cock twitch inside him. “It burns, but doesn’t hurt…”

“I know the feeling.” Hawke rolled his hips and this time Justice did cry out, head thrown back and eyes falling shut as he shuddered and let out a stream of needy sounds. “I just came my brains out and I still – want – more.” Each word was accompanied by a hard thrust, the slick glide of Hawke’s cock loud, wet and obscene as Justice groaned shakily. “I love the sounds you make,” Hawke murmured, one hand drifting from Justice’s waist to his hip. “I think this is going to make you _scream.”_

Justice moaned at every slight shift of Hawke’s body as he took up the bottle of lyrium again, and Justice heard him hiss as he poured it into his hands. Droplets fell against the chemise, their song echoing through the air to tingle down Justice’s spine and burrow deep into his soul. He groaned into the otherworldly vibrations, feeling them tighten in the air around him, seeking out the piece of the Fade in him and making his heart pound.

The droplets became a steady stream, a pattering rush of dense liquid raining over the swathe of satin, splashing onto his thighs to make him twitch and arch and – Hawke’s lyrium-soaked palm wrapped around his silk-covered erection.

Hawke gave him no time to adjust – no time even to catch his breath as he began to thrust again, matching each jerk of his hips with a smooth, firm stroke. The lyrium soaked through the fabric, leaving him engulfed in impossibly smooth liquid pleasure. It tingled and burned and screamed against his sensitive flesh. Heat built beneath Hawke’s palm, and every time his cock slammed in deep it nudged the spot inside him that left him crying out and bucking his hips. Hawke was panting encouragement, little gasps of his name, moans of _tight,_ and _beautiful,_ and _fucking Maker._ The song of the lyrium built to a deafening, shrill note – it hauled him to his peak and pinned him there, no release, no end, trapped and shuddering as it penetrated him to his core.

“Garrett…” his voice cracked and he roared, pleasure building beyond what he could bear as Hawke took him roughly, grinding his ass into the rug as his breath rasped and he thrust raggedly into him.

“Come for me,” Hawke groaned, his firm fingers trailing over the lyrium-drenched silk, kneading the twitching length beneath. “Please, Justice – I need to hear you, need to see, love.”

Hawke’s voice broke him, and the lyrium song shattered as Justice screamed. He bucked against Hawke’s hand, white-hot pleasure under the searing chill of lyrium and the soft caress of satin. The tight ball of heat inside him flooded through his flesh, leaving him flushed, heated, trembling as his cock pulsed and the thick flood of his come coated his skin. He lay boneless on the ground, hands clenched in his own hair as he panted and snarled through the intense, almost painful aftershocks.

“Maker, that was beautiful,” Hawke whispered hoarsely.

Justice growled softly as Hawke slid out of him with a filthy wet sound, and gently peeled back the soaked chemise. Justice was still hard – could barely believe it, even with the warm presence of the aphrodisiac in his system – and the cool air on his aching flesh made him shudder.

“This outfit is damaged,” Justice said, feeling the wet satin clinging to his nipples and the soaked skirt shoved up and over one thigh. “It was beautiful, and we have destroyed it.”

“Destroyed? No.” Hawke settled between his thighs – easing Justice’s legs up over his shoulders – and shook his head. “Just got a little messy. After the state the green dress ended up in, I sought _expert_ advice.”

“Isabela?”

“Mmhmm.” Hawke licked a slow, lazy stripe up the underside of Justice’s cock. He growled softly, thrusting up eagerly as Hawke chuckled. “She doesn’t know much about lyrium stains – can’t make any promises there – but it’s blue, and so’s lyrium so…” He took Justice’s cock into his mouth – no enticing sweeps of tongue, no glide of his lips, just a long, steady suck that removed the thick trails of come and lyrium.

“We can dress you up again another night,” Hawke murmured, pressing feather light kisses down Justice’s shaft. “If you’d like?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“So – success so far?”

Justice groaned wordlessly, breaking off into a loud, rumbling growl of pure pleasure as Hawke’s lips trailed lower. A gentle grip on his thighs raised them, spreading him open beneath Hawke as he kissed and licked teasing trails over the backs of his thighs and onto the firm muscle of his ass.

“Are you…” he looked down and words failed him. Hawke’s lips were coated in the mingled fluids – lyrium and his own seed trailing down into his beard. He smirked up at Justice, then dipped his head and continued, licking messy trails from Justice’s glowing skin. He followed flickering lines over taut muscle, pressing open-mouthed, heated kisses to clean skin before groaning eagerly to lap up the streaks, working closer and closer to his goal as Justice squirmed and panted.

“This all right?” Hawke gasped. Justice could feel his warm breath against his entrance, and his answer was the hand that shot out and gripped a fist full of Hawke’s hair. “Love,” Hawke said – a breathless laugh as Justice growled – “love, listen. Anders isn’t sure about this – need to check he doesn’t mind us doing it.”

“I…” Justice groaned, feeling for Anders’ mind. He could feel the source of the reluctance – curiosity, too, but overlaid with the conviction that there were some places mouths _didn’t belong_. Justice disagreed, and he could feel Anders stirring against his thoughts, settling among them and – _yes._ One step removed, Anders’ discomfort faded to almost nothing – he consented. “Yes,” Justice gasped. “He says yes.”

“I love it when you two can agree,” Hawke chuckled, and he swept his tongue up the cleft of Justice’s ass.

It was hot, firm, and wet against him, the tip moving purposefully up to his slick, clenching hole. Hawke circled the ring of muscle, his soft groan vibrating as he licked and kneaded, lapping the smeared fluids from the puckered skin. Each ghost of his breath, each swirl of tongue, every move he made left Justice panting. He was oversensitive, sensation bordering on pain – and Hawke knew it. He’d fucked him until he was raw and aching, stretched and dripping and still begging for more than he could quite take. This was relief – sweet pulses of pleasure that took him to the edge of what he could stand but never _quite_ pushed.

“Still good?” Hawke mumbled against him, and the vibration of his voice made Justice shudder and cry out, feet curling against Hawke’s back.

“Yes,” he rumbled, tightening his grip on Hawke’s hair. “More.”

“You’re greedy tonight. Anders still good?”

“Yes. _Yes…”_

Hawke sped up – fast, skilful tongue circling him, pressing firm against his entrance but not quite slipping into him. He teased, flicked the tip of his tongue over the twitching flesh, licked and kissed but Justice needed _more._ Hawke sensed his urgency, gripping his ass two-handed as his shoulders forced Justice’s thighs further back and his tongue worked faster. Justice still had control, the grip in Hawke’s hair was iron and he pressed his feet firmly against Hawke’s back, pinning him in place.

“I said _more,_ mortal,” he snarled.

Hawke’s tongue breached him, pressing inside as Hawke groaned. His lips were pressed against Justice’s flesh, hot, squirming tongue working him open again, and within seconds Justice could barely think. He didn’t know if it was the aphrodisiacs or if Hawke was just _that_ good – maybe a little of both – as Hawke eagerly put his tongue to the task of stripping Justice down to raw sensation. He moaned against his ass, his jaw twitching against Justice’s skin as he forced his tongue deeper, thrusting and swirling in ways that left Justice biting his lip and panting.

He couldn’t take it anymore – the slow build of tension inside him, the exquisite heat of Hawke’s mouth – Justice twisted Hawke’s hair with a rough growl and forced him back. He keened sharply at the loss of his tongue but this was better. A brief moment of snatching roughly, tangled limbs and – there, Hawke’s wrists were in his grasp. Justice stood, hauling his lover to his knees, his cock throbbing at the needy little gasps each tug dragged from Hawke’s lips.

He dragged Hawke by his wrists, forcing him to crawl on his knees over to the chest of drawers. Clothes scattered on the ground as Justice groped for what he needed – a narrow leather belt that he cinched tight around Hawke’s wrists as he struggled half-heartedly.

“You are willing?” Justice growled. A sharp tug on the leather brought Hawke’s hands high above his head and straightened his spine, and he looked up at Justice from his knees, flushed and panting. “Answer me – you struggled, are you willing?”

“Just playing along, love.” Hawke grinned. “You know I’ll stop you if I’m not having fun. Gave you an excuse to manhandle me. Spirit-handle? What’s the – _mmph_.”

Satisfied with his answer, Justice stopped holding back. He thrust two fingers between Hawke’s lips, forcing him to suck as he tied the trailing length of leather around the bedpost. Hawke’s lips were slick with lyrium and his own seed, his beard dripped onto his chest and his cheeks were flushed dark – he was everything Justice desired, everything he loved. Eager and submissive on his knees, his tongue lapping at glowing fingertips, eyes half shut as he wrapped soft, wet lips around Justice’s knuckles and moaned.

“Look at me,” Justice said, letting his voice drop low and gravelly in the way he knew Hawke loved. Hawke’s eyes snapped up to his, wide and dark. “You have shown me all the pleasures a mortal mind can imagine,” he said. “You thought this was your realm – that you could rule here, break me with desire.”

Hawke whimpered, and Justice twisted his hand to grip his jaw as he continued to thrust shallowly between his lips.

“I have bested demons by that name,” he snarled, bracing one foot on Hawke’s tensed thigh. “Desire is _mine_ to command, it is not my master.”

With Hawke’s hands bound, Justice’s hand was free. He wrapped it around is length, stroking languidly as he looked down into Hawke’s eyes. His blazing blue gaze held Hawke in place as tightly as the leather belt, and he breathed raggedly as Hawke matched the steady flicks of his tongue to the pace of Justice’s hand.

“It is my turn to show you pleasure,” Justice growled, running his thumb across Hawke’s lip. “It will be mine to give or deny – and, my love, my mortal – you will _beg._ ”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of the last chapter! I've got a short epilogue planned which won't be smutty, it's just a little fun extra, and that _should_ be something I can whip up quickly tomorrow. But this brings the actual uh... plot, for want of a better word... of this fic to an end. Thank you all for your patience, I know it's been a bit of an epic!

Hawke had known what to expect from the aphrodisiacs – the steady build of heat and need, the unrelenting ache between his legs and the constant coil of tension in the pit of his stomach. Each mind-shattering orgasm was better than the last, and each time the relief it brought was shorter lived. Eventually the effect would peak, bringing mindless, desperate pleasure – and then gradually release him.

He hadn’t counted on Justice.

They were approaching the apex – Justice was shuddering as he stroked his cock, glowing lip drawn between his teeth as he growled and took rough, shallow breaths. The soaked chemise was twisted around his hips and clinging to his thighs, one strap falling down over his shoulder – he smelled of sex and sweat and the Fade, and the cracks in his skin glowed almost white. As for Hawke – he was in agony. The leather against his wrists made him ache, straining against it just to feel the sweet bite against his flesh. The twist in his shoulders and the arch in his back left him panting, but none of it compared to the brief touches Justice allowed him. Justice’s foot pinned his thigh in place, his fingers toyed with his lips and gripped his jaw – it was everything. It wasn’t _enough_.

 “Touch me,” Hawke gasped. His teeth grazed Justice’s fingers, and the spirit growled in response and gripped his jaw tighter.

“I am.”

“You pedantic…” Hawke yelped, Justice’s nails biting into his skin as his head was jerked back.

“You will not make demands of me.” Justice’s voice was ragged, his control clearly fraying as his fist pumped his cock. The tremor in his thighs was visible, and the hand that gripped Hawke’s jaw was shaking. “I will touch you – nngh – as I wish. I will use you as I desire.”

“Yes, fuck – yes, Justice, _use_ me.”

Justice thrust three fingers into Hawke’s mouth, and he gagged at the sudden intrusion, eyes watering as he began to suck obediently. With his vision blurred and lids heavy he could almost imagine Justice’s cock, heavy on his tongue, stretching his lips obscenely around the base. Hawke’s hips jerked desperately, chasing friction he knew was impossible to find, and a tingling shiver rushed down his spine and began to build. He keened desperately against Justice’s fingers, and Justice’s low moan left his blood hot and breath shaking.

“Do you desire pain?”

Hawke’s desperate _yes_ was barely coherent around the thick press of fingers, but Justice understood. He jerked his fingers free, trailing saliva over Hawke’s cheek as he caressed his skin – not quite gentle, but not the bruising grip of before either. Hawke sagged against his hand, panting and whining eagerly as Justice’s thumb stroked his lip. The hum of his skin against Hawke’s flushed cheek was so good it hurt, sending pulses of electric pleasure racing through his nerves straight to the tip of his straining cock.

Justice slapped him – hard. Hawke’s head jerked to the side, his cheek stinging and his lower lip throbbing where it had been crushed against his teeth. Maker, it was _good –_ scalding heat where Justice’s hand had awoken frayed nerves, a throbbing in the shape of his lover’s hand that seemed to pulse in time with his heart. His head was ringing from the impact, and he barely heard his own raw, shaken moan.

“More?”

“Fuck – Maker, yes.”

Justice hit him again – the other cheek this time, striking with a loud crack. This was harder – Hawke felt the jarring impact in his jaw and heard the blood pounding in his ears, but his cock jumped eagerly and for a moment he thought he might come just from this. He was flushed and panting, steady coils of tingling pleasure building at the base of his spine and pulses of heat throbbing in his aching length. One more blow might push him over the edge, and he bit his lip and looked up through his lashes, desperate for the next strike.

It didn’t come. Justice’s cock was leaking steadily against his palm, smeared fluids gleaming in his vivid glow, and his chest heaved above the corset as he snagged his fingers in Hawke’s damp, sweaty hair and held him roughly in place. Hawke could feel a faint trickle of blood from his lower lip over his tongue, and the salted metal taste reminded him of the Fade, of the bitter hum in Justice’s kissing and the scalding lyrium-like taste in his seed.

Justices ragged panting quickened, the hand in Hawke’s hair became a fist, and he pitched forward with a cry as he thrust into the tight circle of his fist. Hawke’s eyes fluttered closed as the first spurt of glowing come streaked across his face – hot and sticky, it clung between his lips and splashed over his cheeks. Justice snarled and gasped, and Hawke felt the warm spill of fluid across his forehead, followed by the press of Justice’s cock against his slack lips.

“Suck,” Justice commanded, iron in his voice even as he breathed through barely held back whimpers.

Hawke drew him into his mouth, soft, teasing flicks of tongue made the rigid length twitch against the roof of his mouth. He tongued the wet slit, feeling a final bead of come spill as Justice hissed and his hips snapped forward. Hawke gagged at the sudden thrust but didn’t mind – Maker help him, he loved it, his cock throbbing insistently as he swallowed the Fade-touched fluid and sucked Justice hard.

“Too much – I…” Justice pulled back, leaving Hawke bereft and gasping. His hand slid from Hawke’s hair, he stepped back, withdrawing his foot from Hawke’s thigh – and Hawke was left alone. Bound, untouched, shoulders straining as he struggled and panted.

“Justice _please,”_ he groaned. He opened his eyes – if the streaks of come on his face dripped at the wrong moment he’ regret it, but he was far beyond caring – and stared pleadingly at Justice. “You have to let me come – it hurts, love it burns – please, Maker, _please._ ” His voice cracked and he twisted sharply, whimpering as the leather bruised his wrists.

“Cease your struggling.”

Hawke obeyed – the sound of Justice’s voice alone was almost as good as his touch, and giving in to his command felt better than anything. He sagged against the bedpost, head thrown back and chest heaving, feeling the steady slide of come over his heated flesh.

“Tell me what you need.”

“Fucking Maker, Justice.” Hawke laughed weakly – this was torture, but at least he could take comfort in the sharp hitch in Justice’s breath when his tongue darted out to capture the spill of thick fluid on his lips. “What do you think?”

“I think that I can leave you bound as long as I wish.” Justice stood over him, just out of reach, and as Hawke gazed up at him he raised his come-streaked fingers to his lips. “I am not the one who will suffer.”

Justice drew one finger into his mouth, eyes locked on Hawke’s as he sucked it, rumbling low in his chest. Hawke cried out weakly, hips jerking as his body ached to rush forward, to be pressed against Justice’s lithe form, rutting against glowing flesh. Justice’s finger slid from his mouth and he swept his tongue over the others – slow, teasing strokes that Hawke could practically feel in the flushed head of his neglected cock.

“Anything,” Hawke gasped. “Touch me, fuck me, slap me around a little more – I don’t care, Maker, love, I don’t _care._ ” Justice opened his mouth wide and swept his tongue over his palm, and Hawke choked on a sob of frustration. “I need to come – you don’t – don’t understand how much I _need_ this…”

“Too much?” Justice said, his voice serious and warm.

“Ye–“ Hawke paused, and shook his head. “I – can take it, just please don’t make me wait too long.”

“I am not unjust.” Justice reached out agonizingly slowly, and allowed his damp fingertips to faintly brush Hawke’s face. He brought them to Hawke’s lips, and Hawke whined gratefully at the brief contact, lapping at the pads until Justice pulled away. “You will be rewarded for your patience.”

Justice left Hawke panting raggedly, tugging at the creaking leather. He was within reach – if only Hawke’s hands were loose he could grip those slender thighs, pull Justice forward and wrap his lips around his flushed, straining length. Bound, he was helpless – Justice braced one hand against the bedpost, wrapped the other around his cock, and began to stroke. He hissed sharply through his teeth, lip curled in a silent snarl as his fingertips swept over the damp, leaking tip and trailed over his shaft. Hawke watched intently, his own shaky groan mingling with Justice’s as the spirit began to thrust slowly into his fist.

“You will demonstrate patience,” Justice said. There was a tremor in the rumble rising from his chest, but he still had Hawke at his mercy. “After I climax, I will give you pleasure in return – but only–“ his breath hitched, and Hawke saw a swell of pre-come leak over his glowing, throbbing length. “Only if you can obey.”

“Anything,” Hawke groaned. He wouldn’t move – he _wouldn’t_ , he could prove to Justice that he was worthy – but he wasn’t _dead,_ and Maker help him, Justice looked incredible. Hawke let his tongue dart out again, capturing a thick, warm drip that clung to his lips. The taste of salt and the Fade left him moaning, heated pulses of pleasure arcing through him as he looked up into Justice’s narrowed eyes.

“You may speak,” Justice said roughly. His strokes quickened, the wet drag of skin on skin obscenely loud in Hawke’s ears, as if every sense was straining for _more._ “You may moan, and scream, and beg if it pleases you. But you will not move. Not until I give you permission.”

“I – yes.”

“Not one muscle.” Justice’s hips jerked and he growled, low and raw as his shoulders hunched and his cock twitched in his fist.

Hawke almost nodded before remembering that’d break the rules – he knew he could end this if he needed to, but even the thought of Justice punishing him by simply leaving was enough to send a thrill of fear through him. He couldn’t imagine the agony of being left like this – he felt pinned against his peak, the heated tingle of orgasm building in the tips of his fingers, in his curled toes, and flickering down his spine to gather low in his gut. The tension built and tightened but didn’t break – he thought he could come simply from Justice’s voice, from the barest ghost of his touch – but Justice knew him too well to let him, he would hold him on the brink and never let go if it suited him.

“Yes,” Hawke groaned, hoping the way he bit down hard on his lip didn’t count as moving.

Justice purred approvingly, his hand a blur around his cock as he rolled his hips to meet every urgent stroke. Hawke’s thighs twitched as he fought the urge to arch up, straining and desperate – Justice’s hips twisted, his abs clenched, and all Hawke could think about was how good his glowing skin would feel under his hands.

“Good,” Justice growled, and he dropped his hand from the bedpost to fist in Hawke’s hair. “I can sense desire in you, mortal. What do you need?”

“To touch you,” Hawke laughed weakly, then hissed as Justice tugged at his hair. “For a start – fuck, oh _fuck_ that’s good…” Justice pulled rhythmically, the sharp jerks of pain across Hawke’s scalp keeping time with the slide of Justice’s cock in his fist.

“And then?”

“Pin me down,” Hawke gasped. “Hit me again – scratch me, bite me, choke me – fuck, oh _please, please, don’t stop._ ” The twist of Justice’s fingers in his hair sent a jolt of urgent need straight to the tip of his cock. It twitched, throbbing as the movement brushed it against Hawke’s tense, trembling stomach. The briefest moment of contact left Hawke whimpering, then crying out desperately as Justice gave another vicious tug at his hair.

“Your voice…” Justice trailed off with a rumbling groan, his entire body tensing for a moment as the strokes of his hand faltered. “I can _feel_ it – I can feel everything.” He panted harshly, and his hand slid from Hawke’s hair to grip his jaw.

“That’ll happen,” Hawke choked out. He could feel Justice’s fingers kneading his skin, smearing glowing trails over what little clean skin remained. “I’m – right there with you, love.”

“The chocolates?” Justice swept his thumb over Hawke’s cheek and pushed it between his lips. “This is their strongest effect?”

“Mm,” Hawke agreed around Justice’s knuckle. He sucked the gathered fluid from his skin, moaning as the intense, bitter flavour flooded his tongue.

“Then you must be desperate.” Justice’s lips twitched in an attempt at a smirk – it wasn’t quite right, but just the idea of Justice like this was enough to leave Hawke panting. He was tied up, shoved down on his knees, dripping with come and a powerful, deadly, beautiful spirit was smirking at him. Hawke’s teeth rasped over Justice’s thumb as it withdrew, and it took all his willpower not to lunge for it again as Justice toyed with his lower lip.

“Yeah,” he gasped. “Little bit, love.”

“Continue,” Justice said raggedly. His fingers swept over the leaking head of his cock and he cried out, his nails biting into Hawke’s skin. “Speak, do not stop – not until I order you…”

“Fuck me,” Hawke groaned. “That’s what I want – what I _need_ – oh, fuck, Justice…” He whimpered, a shudder running up his spine as Justice cried out sharply. The sounds he made seemed to be under Hawke’s skin, roaring through his veins in a rush of white-hot pleasure. “I need to come, please I – I’m close already, you can do _anything_ as long as you just – fucking – touch me.”

Justice roared, his come-streaked hand sliding into Hawke’s hair again as his hips jerked forward. His cock pulsed and spilled over his hand, glowing, sticky strands splashing over Hawke’s heaving chest and splattering onto his shaking thighs. Hawke could barely think, he almost forgot to breathe – he could feel the warm wetness on his skin, could hear Justice’s rough breaths and barely choked-back moans, and the air was thick with the scent of sex.

“Please love, tell me that’s enough,” Hawke said weakly. “I can’t – _Maker,_ Justice, I can’t take this – I need, I need…”

“So do I.”

Justice didn’t release his wrists, but he untied him from the bedpost. Hawke was too caught up in urgent need to care what he was doing – his hands were on Hawke’s wrists, supporting his weight, caressing his skin. Every hint of contact was enough to make him whine as he bit his lip to keep from struggling. Not to get away – to get closer.

The sudden flare of pain in his shoulders got his attention. Hawke cried out, knees buckling as he was hauled upright without warning. Justice had his fingers wrapped in the leather, his arm extended above his head to force Hawke to his feet, eye to eye as Justice shoved him back against the bedpost. And – oh, that was _good –_ Justice’s thigh was between his legs, wet silk and taut muscle for Hawke to writhe against moaning breathlessly.

“I will give you what you desire,” Justice snarled.

He pushed Hawke onto the bed and Hawke fell hard, his breath driven out of him as he was thrown down onto his back with his bound wrists above him. He twisted his hands to grip the sheets and haul himself back – legs spread, back arched, toes clenched in the bedding as Justice joined him on the bed and prowled forward over his sprawled out body.

Hawke’s thoughts fled somewhere between Justice’s teeth finding his nipple and the sound of a bottle being opened between his thighs. His eyes fluttered shut and his hips jerked desperately – neither he nor Justice seemed to care that he’d forgotten his orders to hold still and to speak, both were impossible. Justice’s tongue swept over his chest, and Hawke felt the low, gravelly moans against his skin as he lapped up sticky, glowing trails. He tugged a nipple – gently with his lips, then harder as his teeth nipped at the stiff peak and Hawke screamed his name. Every bite and pull and warm breath against his skin sent raw sensation flooding to his cock, and built heat in the pit of his stomach.

Justice slid up over him with a growl and claimed his mouth – lips moving against Hawke’s roughly, urgently, soon joined by an eager sweep of tongue. Hawke looped his bound wrists behind Justice’s head and thrust up against his sweat-slick thigh, moaning into his mouth as he bucked and whimpered and the familiar tingling friction built, dragging him towards his peak. Justice’s hand was on his thigh – oil sliding from his fingers over Hawke’s flushed skin – and when it slipped into the cleft of his ass Hawke practically wailed into Justice’s mouth.

“Come for me,” Justice snarled against his lips. “Come for me, mortal.”

He thrust two curled fingers into Hawke’s entrance, and Hawke screamed.

Every inch of his body was burning, nerves stripped bare and alight with pleasure as his muscles strained and his body writhed against the sheets. His cock throbbed against Justice’s thigh, glowing cracks humming and snapping at the aching flesh as Hawke bucked desperately, feeling the steady slide of his come coating his twitching length. There was a hand gripping his hair, another thrusting fingers into his clenching hole, and the hot press of Justice’s lips muffled his broken cries as he strained and shuddered and finally fell back, whimpering and shaking.

 “Yes,” Justice groaned as they broke apart. He nipped at Hawke’s lip and smoothed his hair back from his face. “Let me see you – open your eyes – _yes._ ”

Hawke stared up into Justice’s face – his lips were swollen and glistening, his skin flushed, and his eyes were blinding. Just the sight of him made Hawke’s cock ache again – still trembling in the aftershocks and he couldn’t stop, couldn’t think – he needed more.

Justice seemed just as eager. He thrust his fingers – slowly, but not gently – every thrust hard enough to jerk Hawke’s body beneath him and drag wet, muffled slaps from between Hawke’s legs. He pushed Hawke’s arms above his head again, wrapping the trailing belt around his hand and pinning Hawke effortlessly with his hand and with his intense gaze as his fingers worked inside him. Hawke was helpless beneath him and he loved it, grunting and panting with every rock of Justice’s hand.

“I wish – to use magic,” Justice panted. “Do you consent?”

“Yeah.” Hawke’s voice was strained – forming words took more coherence than Justice had left him. “Y- love, Just- _oh…_ ”

Justice’s fingers sank into him, curled to brush the sensitive spot inside him, and a burst of sparks bloomed against Hawke’s flesh. It was a ball of sparking warmth, tingling and humming as Justice’s fingers seemed to vibrate with the intensity of it. They stroked and kneaded, and the magic was unrelenting. Hawke’s hips jerked as he strained and bucked, grinding down on Justice’s fingers as the magic built. It felt almost alive, coiling into his body to wrap around his nerves. It caressed and burned, giving Hawke more pleasure than he had known was possible – more than he could bear. His choked moan was almost a sob as Justice poured more magic into him, snaps of electricity instantly soothed by the warm and cool whisper of creation. It healed and scalded all at once, and every sensation was heightened as Justice began to thrust roughly with his fingers again.

“Yeah – that’s – _there, please, there…_ ” Hawke gasped, and Justice’s grip tightened on his wrists as he added a third finger. Hawke screamed – eyes screwed shut as his shoulders ground into the mattress and he arched helplessly. Justice wasn’t thrusting slowly now – not even close – his oiled fingers pounded Hawke mercilessly, plunging into his entrance as Justice panted and snarled above him.

“You will not come until I permit it,” Justice warned – Hawke’s cock was twitching urgently against the spirit’s thigh, and Hawke wasn’t sure he could obey even if he could bring himself to try. He grunted harshly, struggling in Justice’s grip as he rolled his hips helplessly. Justice gave a rumble of disapproval. “You will _not,_ ” he growled. “If you do, I will stop.”

“You wouldn’t,” Hawke said, laughing breathlessly before a twist of Justice’s fingers left him keening. “You – couldn’t. You want me.”

“Yes.”

“Want me – face down, screaming your name – taking it – nngh, fuck – hard?”

Justice groaned – and made no more threats. He withdrew his fingers – leaving Hawke crying out desperately at the loss – and when he sheathed them in Hawke’s loosened hole again he had added a fourth. Hawke whimpered and hissed at the stretch, twisting to bite at his own straining arm, the sharp pain holding back the climax he could feel straining for release. He buried his teeth in his flesh, drool streaking his skin, Justice’s seed smearing from his face into the sheets. His moans were muffled against his thick bicep, and all that existed was the pounding of his pulse in his ears, Justice’s quick, roughened breaths, and the obscene wet sounds of his thrusting fingers.

The tension inside him built to breaking point – and snapped. He clenched around Justice’s fingers, his neglected cock twitching in time with his pounding heart as he coated Justice’s thigh once more. Hawke bit down on his arm hard enough that it bled, a sweet spike of agony amidst the mind-numbing, all-consuming rush of pleasure. It didn’t stop – Maker help him, it felt as if it might never end. Waves of sensation roared over him, his mind was fogged, body shaking, and the sounds that tumbled from his slack lips were broken and incoherent – but he knew if he could speak, he would have begged for more.

“More?” Justice asked, as if he could read his mind. Hawke nodded – more than that was beyond him – and Justice withdrew his fingers. He wiped them against Hawke’s thigh – leaving streaks of oil on heated skin – then released his wrists to pull back, grip Hawke’s hips, and flip him onto his stomach with a growl.

“Oh – _fuck_ ,” Hawke managed to whine.

He heard a low, breathless chuckle in response – Justice laughed rarely, but _Maker,_ Hawke loved it when he did. He flattened his body over Hawke’s, one hand sliding over his arm to grip the trailing leather belt. When he spoke, his breath was hot against Hawke’s ear, and his lips brushed his skin.

“This is what you wanted?” he said. “To be _fucked_ like this? Pinned beneath me?” His knees shifted over Hawke’s thighs, holding him flat, and Hawke felt his rigid length nudging into the cleft of his ass. All he could do was nod, moaning helplessly as he thrust against the sheets.

“What was it you said?” Justice continued, and his teeth grazed Hawke’s earlobe. “That I would let a mortal take control?”

“Nngh…”

“Do you _feel_ in control, mortal?”

Hawke tried to arch his back, to push his ass up against the teasing pressure – but he was helpless. Justice’s lean body shouldn’t have weighed much but he was holding him down effortlessly, the raw power of the Fade burning through him.

Justice’s free hand gripped his ass briefly, spreading the firm cheeks to allow his stiff length to press against Hawke’s entrance. Hawke moaned helplessly, and Justice moved his hand to his cock and lined himself up, panting harshly.

“It is as I thought.”

Hawke choked on a wordless shout as Justice’s hips snapped forward. His thick shaft was sheathed in Hawke’s slick hole, he could feel the throbbing hardness stretching him, plunging deep into his eager body as he panted and whined, open mouthed as his slack lips smeared drool into the ruined sheets.

Justice’s thrusts were slow but hard, each rock of his hips driving Hawke down into the mattress as Justice snarled, and Hawke’s voice broke into a litany of grunts and shaky cries. He was aroused to the point of pain, desperate to move or grind against the sheet or _anything._ Everything was too much and nothing was enough, the sound of Justice’s roughened voice, the bite of his nails into Hawke’s wrists and hip, and the thick, rigid length of his cock slamming into his willing body – he was overwhelmed, but still ached for more, for harder, for everything Justice could give him.

Justice released his hands – they were still bound, there was little he could do except clench his fingers in the sheets as his shoulders strained and chest heaved – and his hand moved to wrap around Hawke’s throat. Hawke could feel him hunched over his body, knees still braced on his thighs, sharp and bony enough to leave bruises he’d be feeling for days. Justice’s nails scuffed over Hawke’s neck as he pulled him back, forcing Hawke’s back to bend like a bow as he choked and gasped for air.

“Is this – will you allow…”

“Yes,” Hawke said. “Yes – _Justice_ …”

Justice held him tightly – not hard enough to cut off air, but more than hard enough to remind Hawke that he _could,_ to leave him helpless and straining as Justice nipped the shell of his ear, dug his nails into his throat and hip, and slammed into him with a roar.

They were both too close, too desperate to draw it out much longer. Sparks flew from Justice’s fingers – not quite as gentle as before, stinging his skin as Justice’s teeth clenched on his ear. Hawke yelped at the pain, fingers scrabbling at the sheets as Justice growled with every thrust. Skin and wet silk slapped against Hawke’s ass as Justice abandoned all restraint. His breaths were shallow and rough, his grip was iron, and Hawke felt his cock pulsing inside him as Justice snarled his name and then – _Maker,_ he’d longed to hear that – he whimpered as the hot flood of his come spilled into Hawke’s slick, clenching hole.

“Don’t stop,” Hawke gasped. Justice sagged against his back, his shaking breaths almost sobs as he rested his damp brow against Hawke’s shoulder.

“I – I think your drug is wearing off,” Justice said. He rolled his hips with a loud moan, mouthing at Hawke’s shoulder as he panted roughly. “I can continue – but perhaps not for long.”

“Won’t _take_ long, love.”

Justice pulled Hawke onto his side, releasing his neck to wrap one arm around his chest and hold him close, while his other hand shifted from Hawke’s hip to his cock. Hawke pressed back against him, feeling the rigid outline of the corset against his back and Justice’s lips crushed warm and soft against his neck. Justice’s cock almost slipped out of him, pulled back far enough to allow a trail of come to spill down to his thigh – then he thrust back in with a moan.

“Like this?” Justice groaned against Hawke’s neck. He set a firm, steady pace with his cock and his hand as he stroked and thrust, breathing heavily against Hawke’s sweat-soaked skin.

“Y-yeah.”

Hawke looped his bound wrists around the back of Justice’s neck, holding him close. Justice’s teeth grazed his skin – gentle now, but no less intense. He left a trail of nips and bites up Hawke’s neck, then traced his tongue around the rim of Hawke’s ear, his breath rasping as his cock drove into Hawke, unbelievably slick as it stretched him open and left him shaking. 

“Anders is present,” Justice said, his breath catching as he held Hawke tight and rocked his hips against him. “Come for him, love – come for _us._ ”

The rasp of Justice’s voice undid him – Hawke cried out sharply, his entire body taut and trembling as his cock pulsed in Justice’s hand. The pleasure was deep and penetrating, exquisite and agonizing as heat pooled in his core and raw, white-hot sensation tore through him. He could feel his come, hot and slick as it spilled over aching flesh onto Justice’s fingers. Justice’s cock drove into him a few times more, fucking him through the final waves of his climax. He was slow and gentle, and Hawke slumped bonelessly against Justice’s chest.

“That – that was…” Hawke broke off with a whimper as Justice’s softening cock slipped out of him. Justice grunted against his neck.

“You are satisfied?” Justice asked. Hawke was too breathless to reply for a moment, and Justice carefully ducked out of the circle of his arms as he breathed heavily, and unbuckled the belt that bound his wrists.

“I – yeah, I think...” Hawke replaced Justice’s hand on his cock with his, and gave an experimental stroke. It almost hurt, he was so sensitive – but he was softening. Finally – how long had it been? They’d been so wrapped up in each other he had no idea how much time had passed. “I don’t know whether to thank the Maker or curse him, but I think it’s over.”

He turned to face Justice, finally beginning to notice the deep aching in his muscles, the soreness in his throat and lips, the sweet sting of the bites on his neck and arm and the deeper pain of his bruised wrists. He could imagine how much worse it’d feel in the morning, and winced.

“You are injured,” Justice said, his fingers brushing over Hawke’s bruised, bloodied skin. “I should withdraw – allow Anders to –“

“Soon,” Hawke said. “I’ll survive, I can wait a while – how about you? I may have been a little, uh….” He thought of Justice, braced against the door, his body rocked by every powerful thrusts. “Enthusiastic?”

“You were exactly what I desired,” said Justice. “You always are. There is some discomfort – I am not distressed by it, nor is Anders.”

“That’s good.” Hawke slid one hand onto Justice’s waist, marvelling again at the sharp dip in his side from the corset. “You ready to escape?”

“Escape? I do not…” Justice’s gaze flicked down. “Ah – the corset. Yes, it is becoming less comfortable.”

“Here.” Hawke pulled him closer, breathing in the scent of his warm skin, and the sharp, smoke and lyrium scent of the Fade that clung to his sweat. He slid one arm beneath Justice’s lean body, and began to slowly unpick the knotted laces. This close he couldn’t resist licking a line of gleaming sweat from Justice’s neck, and something in the tone of his gasp made Hawke pull back to look at his face. His eyes still glowed blue, but the shape of Anders’ irises were clearly visible through the glow, and the cracks on his face were beginning to fade.

“Not sure I’m quite up for a threesome,” Hawke said with a grin.

“Yet still you tease.” Justice shook his head, but the smirk was Anders’, Hawke thought. “Anders has watched us for – I think it likely it has been several hours – you cannot blame him for being summoned at the thought of more.”

“Anders is going to notice his body is worn out when he takes over.” Hawke laughed, his hands working to loosen the laces. “Or I hope he will, anyway – I’ll be ashamed of myself if he can even _walk_ after that.”

“Healer, love,” said Anders – it was always a little odd to hear his voice while their eyes still glowed, but Hawke was more or less used to it. “I recover fast.”

“Maker, how am I even _tempted_ by that?” Hawke chuckled as he encouraged Justice onto his back and unhooked the busk. “I feel like I’ve been trampled by a horse. Twice.”

Justice hummed happily as the corset fell away, leaving him clad only in the crumpled blue chemise. He ran his hands over his waist and lower ribs, groaning softly as he kneaded at sore spots, and his eyes fell half closed.

“Nice to get out of it?”

“It was pleasant to get _into_ it,” he said. “But – yes, this is a relief.”

“Slip this off too?” Hawke tugged at the sticky skirt of the chemise. “I need to soak it in this – I don’t know, something Isabela gave me. Unless you don’t mind it staining.”

“I mind,” Justice said with such intensity that Hawke had to laugh.

The idea of moving – even as far as the bucket in the hallway he’d prepared earlier that evening – wasn’t a pleasant one, but the idea of seeing Justice dressed this way again was enough of a motivator that Hawke managed to drag his exhausted body there to dump the soaked, crumpled satin, and back again. He was greeted by the sight of Justice sprawled naked across the bed, far more loosely relaxed than Hawke thought he’d ever seen him.

The lesson in hedonism seemed to have been a success – Justice looked like pure sin, his skin gleaming with sweat, streaked with both his own seed and Hawke’s, and lyrium still staining his inner thighs. His hair had dried in soft waves, damp and dark with sweat at the roots, and his eyes were still half closed as he took deep, roughened breaths.

“Did I – actually wear you out?” Hawke flopped down next to him, one arm draped loosely over Justice’s chest. “I mean I know I had a little help, but so did you.”

“You are looking for me to encourage your ego,” Justice said flatly. “I will not participate in this.”

“Oh come on.” Hawke propped his chin on Justice’s chest. “I earned it.”

“You are exceptional. I can feel weakness in my body I am unused to. Is that sufficient?”

“Oh – I am _good._ ” Hawke laughed – and coughed shortly afterwards as the laughter reminded him of his sore throat. “Andraste’s tits, if it was safe to tell anyone I’d never shut up about this. Fucked a Fade spirit to exhaustion…”

“It is my mortal body.” Justice scowled, and Hawke doubted anyone but him and perhaps Anders would have recognised the amusement lurking beneath the fierce expression. “In the Fade, you would break before I had even _begun._ ”

“Mm, lucky Anders.” Hawke paused. “Wait, now whose ego is being _encouraged._ You planned this?”

“I am incapable of pride,” Justice said, definitely proudly.

Hawke snorted, rolling onto his back with a groan. New aches were waking all the time – in his back, his thighs, his jaw.

“Anders believes you require healing,” Justice said. “And he is concerned that he will wake in significant discomfort if he does not heal this body also.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re swapping over?” Hawke reached out and took Justice’s hand, and Justice shifted onto his side, looking down at Hawke.

“This has been an incredible night,” he said, surprisingly softly. “Everything you show me – the effort you make to bring me into the world you share with Anders – I appreciate it. More than I can say.”

“Hey, dinner, a bath, and some rough sex.” Hawke grinned. “Nothing special, love.”

“It was special to me.” Justice frowned. “ _You_ are special to me.”

“You too,” Hawke said quickly. “Sorry, I slipped – not meaning to make light of things, I know you hate that.”

“I do not _hate._ ”

“You know what I mean. It – doesn’t come easy to me. Anders is the one with the dramatic romantic lines – really, it’s a miracle I didn’t offer him a sandwich or something when he first told me he loved me, tends to send me into a bit of a panic if I’m being honest.”

“If I tell you that I love you, are you going to respond appropriately or attempt to feed me?”

“I love you too.” Hawke grinned and tucked a strand of hair behind Justice’s ear. “Not always easy to say, but trying to get you to eat might be harder.”

The air seemed to thicken around them, and Hawke saw Justice’s – Anders’ – body stiffen briefly, and for a moment his glow grew brighter. Then it faded entirely, leaving Anders lit only by the low orange light of the dying fire.

“Maker’s arse, love, what did you two _do_ with my body?” Anders laughed weakly, flopping against Hawke’s chest.

“Nothing it didn’t like.” Hawke wrapped his arms around him, gripping a handful of his ass and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Aches and pains?”

“Understatement of the year.” Anders pushed himself up wincing, straddling Hawke’s hips as he stretched his back. He looked down and snorted. “Your face is – uh, glowing.”

Hawke reached up and found the cooling stickiness on his cheek and grimaced.

“Ugh, this seemed a lot more appealing about ten minutes ago.”

“Mm, Justice thought so too.” Anders slid out of bed, knees almost giving out as he stood up and wandered over to the bowl of water Hawke had left by the fireplace to fetch damp sponges. He tossed one to Hawke, and began cleaning his own skin, groaning softly as the cool water trickled over his flushed chest. A faint aura of healing magic bloomed around his fingers, slowly spreading over his skin as he concentrated.

“Little of that for me?”

Anders returned to the bed, falling into Hawke’s arms and letting the cooling wave of magic wash over them both. Hawke felt the tension in his muscles loosen, bruises, bites and scratches vanishing – and when the magic reached his cock, he was surprised to feel it stir against his thigh.

“That – shouldn’t be possible.”

“Generalized healing,” Anders shrugged. “Gives everything a bit of a boost – you’ll settle down in a minute. Assuming that you want to, of course.” His eyebrow quirked.

“I can’t decide if I hope you’re joking, or hope you’re _not.”_

Anders grinned, reached behind him, and when he turned back to Hawke the little wooden box of chocolates was resting on his palm.

“I can wait,” he said. “But I have to admit, I’m curious to see what’ll happen if we take another dose.”

“I’m not sure the first lot’s fully worn off,” Hawke warned.

“Oh, I’m sure it hasn’t.” Anders rolled a chocolate between his fingers, a mischievous smile lighting his eyes as he glanced at Hawke. “Based on the scent of these I’d say there’s nothing too extreme in the ingredients – though it’s not just herbs, there’s definitely magic involved in something this strong. But they won’t do us any harm – the Rose wouldn’t stay open if they poisoned their clients.”

“Well, if my healer says I’m allowed to take more of the probably illegal, unidentified drug, I’m not going to argue.” Hawke grinned and snatched the chocolate from Anders’ fingers. It was beginning to melt slightly, soft and slippery against his skin. “How many?”

“We’ll start with one.” Anders set the box aside, and popped a chocolate into his mouth. Hawke heard the soft, wet sound of the chocolate shell being crushed, and Anders smirked with chocolate crumbs melting on his lips. “And see where the night takes us.”

Hawke hesitate for a moment – all for show, watching the hopeful widening in Anders’ eyes as he pressed the chocolate against his lips. One for now – he smirked, and drew the chocolate between teeth, onto his tongue, and let it melt there. He hoped _for now_ wouldn’t last too long.

Anders straddled him and Hawke pulled him close, a hand balled in the mage’s hair, the other gripping his arm as their lips met. Anders sighed against him, sucked at his lower lip, and when the kiss deepened, Hawke tasted chocolate on his tongue.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, drama, angst - and a bit of a cliffhanger :P The next fic in the series will be along before too long, thanks everyone who's been reading/subscribed/kudosed/commented etc, I know this one was a bit of a slow updater!

“Was this another pleasure you wished to show me?”

Hawke looked up with a grin from the roughly swept together mess of crushed fruit and broken china. He was dressed in a pair of loose-fitting trousers and nothing else – similar to Justice himself. Neither had seen much point in getting fully dressed in clothes that would inevitably end up dirtied as they cleaned up the mess they’d left behind.

Hawke shook his head.

“I seem to remember you insisting we clean this up ourselves,” he pointed out. “But come to think of it – screw it, this is good too. Learning about – I don’t know, consequences. The more fun you have, the worse the morning after tends to be.” He smirked. “Next lesson – hangovers.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’d be hilarious drunk.” Hawke gathered up the tablecloth, folding the cream-smeared side inwards. “I know, I know – boundaries. I’m not pushing. Just enjoying the mental images.”

Justice felt a flutter of amusement from Anders’ mind – he’d woken up shortly after Hawke, but seemed content to remain resting at the back of their mind as Justice volunteered to help clean the dining room. Housework didn’t come naturally to him – it was frustratingly slow and he lacked Orana’s skill, but the thought of leaving such utter chaos for a servant didn’t sit right with him. She was paid well for her work, but this was beyond what she should reasonably have to expect. The least he and Hawke could do was remove the worst of the mess.

The amusement from Anders mind didn’t cease – in fact, as Justice stooped to scrape crushed cake from the carpet, he felt a distinctive surge of what he could only describe as laughter in his mind. Bubbles of fragmented thought, happy and slightly mocking when they brushed against his memories. He caught Anders investigating a memory of Hawke’s thrashing legs sending a cascade of dishes to the ground, and snatched it away.

“Do not mock me,” he growled.

“Love?”

“Not you.” He felt Anders’ apology, and hummed warmly against his mind. “Anders was laughing at me.”

“Maker, Justice, I’m laughing at us.” He swept his arm in a wide gesture. “I’d say we got carried away but it’d be a huge understatement.”

“Anders cannot judge. As I recall you awoke on the stairs this morning, without your clothing, after attempting to take a ‘snack break’ while still under the influence of your _exciting_ chocolates.”

“Ah – yes. Kitchen turned out to be a little further than we could manage.”

“I enjoyed watching through his eyes,” Justice admitted. “When he dragged you down onto the stairs with him – the way he positioned you against the steps…”

“The bruises on my knees he hasn’t deigned to heal yet?” Hawke snorted.

“If you are uncomfortable..?”

“I’m not.”  

Hawke straightened up and Justice couldn’t help but rake his gaze over his sculpted chest. It still gleamed with sweat from the previous night – the faint light of dawn had been streaming through the high windows by the time Hawke had screamed his final release and let exhaustion claim him in Anders’ arms. Both their bodies were aching with tiredness, and as Justice’s eyes lingered on the low waistband of Hawke’s trousers, he felt a mildly alarmed burst of thought from Anders.

“I am merely _looking_ ,” he said.

“Are you getting a telling off?”

“I believe Anders wishes me to remember there are limits to what magic can accomplish – and to how hard it is wise to push a mortal body.” Justice tilted his head, feeling for Anders’ thoughts. “He is, of course, correct. But I do not believe that eye strain is a risk.”

“Mm, probably not.” Hawke ran his fingers through his hair, the movement of his arm setting muscles rippling. Justice licked his lips before he’d even realised he was doing it, mouth suddenly feeling dry, skin flushed. Anders’ exasperation was very clear as Hawke paced towards him, a slight swing in his hips.

“How about lip strain?” Hawke growled, pushing Justice back against the wall. “I’d like to kiss you, but if it goes against healer’s orders…”

“He considers us ridiculous,” Justice said, hearing the rough edge of desire in his own voice. “Like – apprentices, is the word that comes to mind. Youth and foolishness – I am his senior by centuries, his thoughts are inaccurate.”

“Yes, love, I know” Hawke said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Does that mean he disapproves?”

Justice felt another ripple of amusement, and let Anders’ emotions play across his lips.

“He does not.”

Hawke gave a short, relieved moan and closed the distance between them. His lips were warm and faintly sweet, and his chest hair tickled Justice’s bare skin with every breath. Justice’s hands hovered awkwardly for a moment, then wrapped around Hawke’s waist. He kneaded the softness there, enjoying the vibration of Hawke’s chuckle against his lips.

The snap of the front door closing, followed by the faint clatter of the latch, broke them apart. Hawke’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes dark, and he ran his tongue over his lower lip as he glanced up into Justice’s eyes.

“That’ll be Orana,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Nothing she hasn’t seen before,” Hawke shrugged. There had been no hiding the relationship from Orana – or from Bodahn and Sandal – once Leandra knew. Justice preferred honesty, while Anders panicked about the risk – the emotional tangle was confusing and made their chest ache, but all three had proven themselves trustworthy and eventually Anders’ fear had subsided.

Justice pulled Hawke close again, growling against his lips when they met. The kiss was lazy but passionate – both too exhausted for more, but not quite exhausted enough not to imagine. Hawke groaned into his mouth with a languid sweep of tongue, and Justice slid his thigh between Hawke’s legs as their bodies pressed close. Hawke’s hands were everywhere – his waist, his hair, skimming over his wiry biceps then dropping sharply to cup his ass as the barest hint of teeth scraped over Justice’s lower lip. The squeak of the dining room door was unimportant – Hawke was right, they had no reason to hide. This was their home, the one place in the world where Justice and Anders were not _abomination,_ they were simply _Hawke’s._

“ _Kaffas._ ”

Justice’s eyes snapped open. Hawke pulled away with a startled breath. Both wheeled to face the door. Orana was there – eyes wide, one narrow hand pressed over her mouth. And she was not alone.

“Messeres I – I thought you’d be asleep I didn’t – I’m so sorry…”

“Not your fault,” Hawke said. His jaw was set hard, and he didn’t even look at Orana. He was entirely focused on the glowering elf beside her.

“Good day, Orana,” Fenris said shortly, and strode out into the hall.

“Shit.” Hawke ran his hands through his hair. “ _Shit_ – fuck – still not your fault–“ he added as Orana flinched. “Justice, stay here.”

“I will not,” Justice said, breaking his stunned silence. Anders was panicking, mind filled with images of Fenris going straight to the Templars, to the Chantry, to everyone and everything that would label them a monster. Justice thought this unlikely – Fenris already knew Anders was a possessed apostate, and had not yet turned on them. But if Anders didn’t trust him, Justice couldn’t help but be cautious – he would not risk Hawke alone with this man.

“I – _shit_ Justice you can’t – we can’t make this worse.” Hawke’s good mood had evaporated, and he covered his face with a groan. “Please, love – stay here, nothing’s going to happen but I need to talk to him and just – _please._ ”

Justice felt Anders’ restraining touch against his mind – there was panic there, but a thin attempt at calm layered over it that stilled him as Hawke rushed out into the hall.

“I…” Orana bit her lip, flinching as the first echo of raised voices reached them. “Messere Anders…”

“I am Justice.”

“I didn’t mean any harm.”

Justice felt a white-hot flare of rage – they had been happy, and now Hawke was distressed, and his host panicked – but one look at Orana’s terrified face made his words die in his throat. Her eyes were swimming with tears and she had gone very pale – the injustices done to her in the past had made her terrified of even the slightest error. She should atone for her mistake – but to address it now, like this, would be cruel. Vengeance, not justice.

“You did not,” he said. “Mortals suffer lapses in judgement – I understand, as will Garrett.”

His attempt at comfort didn’t seem to have the desired effect. Orana’s fingers bit into her arms as she looked down at the floor – Anders thought she was waiting to be dismissed, but Justice felt uneasy commanding a mortal who seemed unwilling to ever disobey, and said nothing.

The voices in the hall raised, and Justice could make out snatches of words.

“–and the abomination…”

“– has a _name…_ ”

“– consorting with demons – hedonistic excesses of Tevinter – not surprised by _him_ …”

Hawke’s voice was twisted with rage when he responded – Justice found it unsettling and mentally flinched from it, unwilling and unable to hear the bellowed words. He didn’t realise he was making a low, anxious hum until he felt Orana’s hand on his arm.

“Messere – please don’t be upset,” she said shakily. “He doesn’t understand – things are different back home.”

“I do not require his understanding.”

The front door banged loudly, and Justice heard the sound of wood splintering from the impact against the wall.

“Wait,” Hawke shouted – furious, broken, desperate. Justice held his breath, straining to hear in the silence that followed.

“I had thought better of you.” A pause followed the bitter snarl, and when Fenris spoke again, it was a quiet mutter Justice could not hear.

All that followed was the click of the latch, and then nothing. Justice did not like deception, and the secrecy surrounding their relationship had never been quite comfortable – but he found he liked this even less. Anders’ mind felt like a rabbit in a snare, kicking and thrashing as he choked on raw panic. He paced out into the hall, barely hearing Orana’s repeated apologies, and found Hawke standing by the cracked front door, lips thin and brow furrowed.

“He said he won’t tell,” Hawke said quietly. “That’s – something. I hope. Maker, I hope…” he took a shaky breath. “He owes me.”

“Had I observed, I could have told you whether he spoke the truth.”

“If you were here, I doubt he’d have said anything at all.” Hawke grabbed Justice’s hand tightly, and pulled him close to his side. “I suppose it was always going to get out eventually,” he said with a laugh Justice could tell was dishonest. “Really, I’m pretty sure Varric keeps notes on the colours of my underwear, there was no way this was ever… too big a secret, it’ll be fine. It’ll be _fine._ Right?”

Hawke’s hand was holding his hard enough to bruise, clinging to him as if he was terrified he might disappear. The understanding flowed from Anders’ mind to his – it didn’t matter that Fenris had never betrayed them, it didn’t matter that Justice could defend himself with ease – Hawke couldn’t lose them. He couldn’t even bear to imagine it.

“You and Anders are _mine,_ ” he growled. “No one will take you from me – or me from you.”


End file.
